Two Hearts for One
by jokerwho
Summary: David Oswald wanted nothing more than for his daughter to be well off and married. He introduces her to a young man in hopes of them falling in love but Clara's heart is already in the possession of another man, Dr John Smith. [Victorian AU]
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! As I've mentioned on my Tumblr, I will be working on this story first before moving on to "A Game of Pretend"._  
 _I hope you readers will have a wonderful time reading this story and please let me know what you think. Enjoy! :)_

* * *

 **Two Hearts for One**

Chapter 1

David Oswald stepped out of the carriage as soon as it came to a halt in front of his home. Relieved to be back after a tiring day at work, ensuring that everything was running well within Great Western Railway aside from securing a deal to extend the railway line to Reading.

So far, things were running smoothly since he had taken over the railway company two months ago and he was very pleased. As soon as he stepped into the mansion, his daughter appeared from the living room. She did not look pleased. His smile dropped.

"Clara," he called. "Is something the matter?"

"Father, as much as I appreciate you trying to provide what is best for me, I do not need to meet another suitor!" she said frustratingly.

Her father had been trying to match make her with several men since the past few years and she turned down every single one of them, not having a single interest in them or their so called wealth. She wanted to marry a man out of love, not out of her father's approval.

David sighed. He was confident she wouldn't find out anything about the meeting until a few days it would take place but somehow his clever girl always got her information from someone.

"Come, let's talk in my study," he murmured, entering the room with Clara tailing behind him.

He only wanted the best for her. She was his only daughter and he wasn't getting any younger. The last thing he wanted to see was his daughter being alone, miserable and no one to love her.

"Please, I have no intention of meeting this man."

He said nothing as he grabbed her hand and patted it. "Clara, I am only trying to do what is best for you. You are almost 30 years old, unmarried and I am not getting any younger."

His daughter looked away from him. It was difficult to get her point across. While she understood he is only trying to secure her future, she is more than capable of handling it.

"How about this," he suggested. "What if you just go along with it? Just meet him as a friend? He's a very nice young man from what his cousin told me and if you do not like him, then that's fine."

Clara bit her lip. She really wanted to tell her father the truth that she would say no in a heartbeat and for a good reason too. No matter how many suitors he may find, her heart will shut every single one of them out for it was already in the possession of another man. A man she had met just a month ago when she fell ill. A man by the name of Dr John Smith. She was sure her father would not approve. Besides, it was still unclear if the Doctor feels the same way about her.

"Very well. If, we do not get along, I want nothing to do with him and if I have no interest in him, we may remain friends as you've proposed, but that will be it."

David granted a warm smile. "Thank you," he said and kissed his daughter's cheek. "The two of you will meet in two weeks when he returns from York."

He had thought that John Foreman would be a suitable husband for Clara the moment he heard about him. Young, charismatic, intelligent and slightly childish. At least, that was how Harold Saxon had described his cousin. Not only that, but he is also the expected to take charge of the North Eastern Railway company. He was sure John Foreman would be a brilliant son-in-law.

Clara excused herself before she walked out of the study, in search of the head maid and friend, Donna Noble. She found her in the kitchen along with the driver.

Donna didn't need to ask anything as the solemn look on her face confirmed everything she was about to ask. "It's alright, Clara, just go through with it," she murmured as she placed a comforting hand on hers.

The news was discovered by the driver, Mr Rentford and since he considered Clara to be the daughter he never had so of course, he told her.

"I don't understand why he keeps on doing this," Clara complained.

Mr Rentford set his hat on the table before taking a seat in an empty chair. "Perhaps you will like this man? You'll never know unless you give him a chance," he said gently.

"Oh stop it, Henry!" Donna retorted. "Remember the last bloke? He was total prawn! Skinny, clueless and he had the nerve to say he hated my pear and apricot tart! Besides, you know she has eyes for one man only."

"To be fair, he did say he hates pears."

The maid had been teasing Clara since she first found out about her crush. It was obvious she was attracted to the Doctor the moment she met him, despite the constant denials.

"Please, stop," she groaned. "Was I that obvious?"

She didn't require a definite answer from them as their laughter was all the confirmation she needed.

Meanwhile, in York, Harold Saxon waited patiently for his cousin to return from his horse riding adventure. He was carefully choosing his words to break the news about his meeting with Clara Oswald, the daughter of the new owner of GWR.

Tapping his finger in a rhythm of four on the table, he took a sip of his tea before hearing the sound of the front door opening. Setting his tea cup down, he rose from his seat and swung the door of the study open.

"Hello, John," Harold greeted with a smile. "I'm sure you are wondering what I'm doing here."

"Oh, hello, cousin," he replied happily, taking off his gloves and walking past him to take a bite of a biscuit from the tray. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Harold finally constructed the proper sentence in his mind. "As you are well aware, John, your father has tasked me with finding a wife for you-"

"Which is absolutely unnecessary," he cut in, happily munching on his biscuit.

"While you may see it that way, I was more than happy to do so, especially since your father was the one who sponsored my education at Cambridge – it is the least I can do."

John rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, you've either found a woman who's more than eager to marry me because I'm the son of a railway company owner or a woman who's not very sane."

Harold straightened his back. "Neither of those. In fact, I've arranged a meeting for the two of you."

"And what if I decide to simply not be at this meeting?"

"It would be such a shame because I'm certain this woman is well, your type," he explained. "Strong-headed, has a mind of her own, extremely intelligent, independent, you know, a woman who's ahead of her time."

John began to listen carefully now. "Go on," he beckoned.

"Her father has agreed to introduce her to you in two weeks time. He has invited us to have tea at his home in London."

"What if I find no interest in her whatsoever?" John questioned. "You and my father should understand that I am a man of my own."

Harold nodded in agreement. "And we respect that. However, don't you think it's time to settle down, find a wife?"

John thought about it for a moment and said, "No."

Without another word, he stormed out of the study. He didn't care if this woman is the prettiest in all of Great Britain but if his heart says no, then there isn't much anybody could do about it.

"You will still travel to London with me, won't you? It's impolite to refuse the invitation!" Harold called out from the study.

"If it makes you and father stop pestering me, then yes!"

"It's set then!"


	2. Chapter 2

_Sweet! Managed to upload this before October! Enjoy! :)_

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 **One Month Earlier**

David Oswald would usually have an early breakfast, preferring to take his time enjoying the food served rather than eating in a rush before leaving for work. He would usually dine with his daughter but he had been waiting for her to appear for more than half an hour now.

Feeling concerned, he instructed Donna to check-up on his daughter.

"Donna, would be so kind as to see if Clara is up?" David said, finishing his tea. "I have to leave work soon and it's a bit odd she isn't up yet."

"Of course, sir."

She had a suspicion Clara was coming down with a fever when she said she felt dizzy and unwell. Who could blame the poor girl? Her father was pressuring her to get married and it was bound to have taken a toll on her.

And she was right when she entered her room after receiving no answer from her when she called from outside.

Clara looked pale, the duvet pulled up to her chin. "I am not sick," she insisted, sniffing. "Just need to sleep for a few more minutes."

Donna rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "And I'm the Queen of England."

She marched downstairs and informed Dave of Clara's condition. The next sensible thing to do was to clearly call a doctor.

Back upstairs, Clara felt miserable. It was bad enough she had to leave Blackpool just a month ago and her friends and now here she was, bedridden like some dying old woman.

She heard a knock on the door before it slowly swung open, as her father entered.

"I've fetched for a doctor so he should be here soon but I will have to leave for work now," he said, caressing her head.

"It's only a cold, father," she pointed out. "I'm not dying."

David Oswald chuckled. "Get well soon, Clara."

"I will!"

An hour had passed and Clara was beginning to wonder if a doctor was indeed on his way. Her doubts were put to rest when she heard mumbled voices from outside her room.

She mentally prepared herself as she wasn't a fan of doctors. The ones she met throughout her life were cold and patronising. The odds of the doctor she was about to meet were very likely too. If anything, he was going to make her feel worse.

The door slowly swung opened and a man stepped in. What caught her attention was that he was wearing a coat with blue lining, waistcoat and cravat. All black complemented with black trousers.

Clara wasn't sure if her father had called a doctor or magician. One complaint she didn't have, however, was that despite the man being older than her, he was rather good looking. Handsome would be the proper term.

She got up into a sitting position and rested her back against the soft pillows.

"I'll be waiting outside if you need me," she heard Donna utter before closing the door.

"Miss Oswald?" he said when he realised Clara had been staring at him.

She cleared her throat and straightened her back. "Sorry… you can blame the headache," she said nervously.

"I'm Dr John Smith," he introduced himself, setting his bag on the nightstand.

John couldn't understand why he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Just minutes ago, he was fine, thinking it was just like any other day – a sick patient who just needed some medicine and plenty of rest and he suspects that it would probably be the case for Miss Oswald. The problem is, there was something else he couldn't quite place his finger on.

Taking off his gloves, he stuffed them in the pocket of his coat before speaking, "You mentioned having a headache?"

"Yes, and also unwell."

"Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"

His question had caused her to chuckle. John arched a brow. "Did I say something you find humorous?"

Clara merely smiled at him, confusing him even more.

"You've been under a tremendous amount of stress then, I assume, given your response."

They locked eyes. It was all the confirmation he needed.

"Trying being in my shoes where your father is constantly trying to match make you with someone," she sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burden you with my problems."

John understood how she felt he was in the same position as her back when he was a young man. "If anything, I can actually relate," he began, sitting in an empty chair next to the bed.

This time, it was Clara who gave him a skeptical look.

"My parents and sister tried to do the exact same thing to me but," he continued.

"You found your true love and lived happily ever after?"

John grinned. "Not quite. No. I've met a few women but well, I think it speaks for itself."

"Are you suggesting I will grow old alone?" Clara asked.

The smile on the Doctor's face dropped immediately. "No, no. That's not what I'm suggesting at all… I'm sure you'll find someone," he stammered.

He calmed down a bit when his patient began giggling.

"I see you're feeling better already," John said.

Clara eyed him. "Maybe it's because I have a fantastic doctor."

"I doubt that," he murmured before he rose from his seat. "Anyway, my advice to you would be to get plenty of rest, not think about the ridiculous plans your parents have planned for you and drink plenty of fluids."

She definitely felt a lot better than she did an hour ago. Sure, her body still felt weak but definitely an improvement.

John grabbed his bag and walked straight to the door.

"Doctor."

He paused just as he was about to twist the knob and turned around, glancing at the beautiful woman sitting in bed.

"Thank you," she said.

John granted her a smile. "You're welcome, Miss Oswald."

 **Present Time**

"… and they should arrive sometime around noon, I believe," David Oswald said before realising his daughter had drifted off in her thoughts. "Clara? Clara, did you hear what I just said?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and glanced at her father. "I'm sorry, father, if you don't mind, I would like to excuse myself."

"They're coming for dinner tomorrow!" her father yelled from the dining room.

Clara tried her best to refrain from rolling her eyes or sigh as she paced up the stairs to her room. If it were up to her, she would cancel the whole thing. It was pointless. It wasn't as if she would immediately fall for whoever it was she was going to meet.

She could tell her father what was on her mind and about how she kept in contact with Dr John Smith on a regular basis by writing letters to him but that would only make things worse.

One thing she was certain of is that she needed to see him again. He seemed to understand her better than anyone else. She could sneak off without her father's knowledge but that was too risky.

It was then an idea hit her. Walking back downstairs, she entered the dining room and said, "I think I am in need of some fresh air. I think a ride around town would be a good idea."

David stared at his daughter, just as he was about to take a bite of his meal. "Alright," he answered in defeat. "You can ask Henry to drive you around."

Her face instantly lit up and she went off in search of the driver and found him in the gardens. "Mr Rentford!"

"Clara," he said and got up.

"I need you to take me to see the Doctor."

His eyes widened in surprise. "You mean…"

"Yes, but don't tell father, obviously. If he asks, just tell him you drove me to the market."

He put on his hat before leading the way to the carriage. "Are you certain this is a good idea?"

"No," she retorted. "But what is like without taking risks?"

"I hope you know what you are doing, Clara."


	3. Chapter 3

_Woo! I finally had the time to finish this chapter! Thank you so much for your patience and enjoy chapter 3!_

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John Smith had just finished his work for the day when he heard a knock coming from the front door. He silently hoped it wasn't another house call. Between teaching future physicians and checking up on his patients, his day was full of adventure and he wasn't keen on going to another one.

One thing he was looking forward to, however, was reading the letter he received. Clara had sent him another letter.

He had expected many things but a beautiful woman standing in front of his house was not one of them. "Miss Oswald," he stammered, surprised by her sudden arrival.

She granted him a warm smile. "I hope I'm not intruding and I apologise for not informing you of my arrival earlier-" she explained nervously.

John chuckled. "That's quite alright. I closed my practice half an hour ago. Please, come in."

He stepped aside and motioned her to come inside. "I'll just make us some tea-"

"That won't be necessary – I won't be here for long."

Clara glanced back at her driver and he nodded, preferring to wait outside.

He guided her to his office before motioning her to take a seat.

"So, what brings you here?"

"I'm not entirely sure if you've received my letter," she began before he produced it from his jacket pocket.

He placed the letter on the desk. "I just got it today, actually and was planning on reading it later in the evening."

Clara eyed the letter before she spoke once more. "I will be meeting him tomorrow."

John leaned back against his chair, waiting for her to continue.

"I still think it's a terrible idea – I'm not going to instantly fall for a man just because he's good looking or wealthy."

He couldn't help but smile, remembering how he used to be the same. "There's no need for you to tell me that – I felt the same way, but alas, here I am."

Clara furrowed her brows. "What are you suggesting?"

He shrugged casually, fiddling with his pencil. "Perhaps you should give him a chance?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, John knew he had made a mistake to even propose such a thing, to begin with.

"Absolutely not!" she growled. "How can you suggest such a thing, Mr "I felt the same way"!"

John gave her a silly grin. "It was worth a try and I was only half serious."

His visitor glared at him, but it soon faded into a smile. "You're terrible at it."

"At what?"

"Bantering."

He rolled his eyes and set the pencil aside. "I'm not into bantering. I hate it."

She didn't believe his statement, a smug look on her face. "So what do you call this, then?"

This time, it was the Doctor who growled. "Shut up."

Clara giggled in response. Eventually, he granted her a smile, unable to resist from acting silly.

John cleared his throat. "Do you at least know something about this person you're meeting?"

Clara pursed her lips. "Apparently, the man goes by the name of John Foreman, heir to a railway company."

"Ah, it all makes sense now."

"I think father mentioned something about him residing in York but does have a house in London."

"And…"

She shook her head. "That is it. When I asked father to at least tell me a bit more about him, he told me I could find out when we meet."

He locked eyes with her. "I honestly don't have any other advice. You try to ignore him completely like I did but I doubt your father would be pleased."

"No, he would not. I have half a mind to pretend to be sick tomorrow," she confessed, grinning.

"Only to have the meeting postponed. You're going to have to eventually meet him at some point. You might as well just get over with."

"That's the weird part of this whole meeting. My father said he was fine I didn't like him, but he wanted us to remain friends," she explained. The voice at the back of her mind knew why but she ignored it.

John knew exactly what her father was up to. He was trying to match-make the two.

Clara took a quick glance out the window and realised it was getting dark. "Anyway, it's best that I return home. Thank you, Doctor," she said and rose from her seat.

"Thank you for being wonderful company. I look forward to hearing all about your endeavour tomorrow, Clara Oswald," he answered and took her hand before giving a quick kiss.

Clara was sure her knees were going to give up on her when John's lips made contact with her skin, but she was thankful they didn't. Suppressing the urge to grin foolishly, she gave him a smile.

"I will write to you as soon as it is over or perhaps make another unannounced visit."

The Doctor finally let go of her hand, but he was silent. While he giving out the impression of a calm man, internally, he was panicking. Why on earth did he kiss her hand? He wasn't the type to be physical to begin with and yet, here he was, an old man flirting with a much younger woman. What was even stranger, was the funny feeling in his stomach.

"I… I look forward to either one," he replied, his voice hoarse.

As soon as the carriage left, he shut the door and let out a sigh of relief. What has gotten into him? He had a vague idea of course but refused to believe him.

"Don't be ridiculous. She doesn't fancy you. She's just seeking advice and friendship," he kept telling himself but the more he said it, the harder it was to believe it.

* * *

John looked out the window, admiring the countryside as the train travels past it at high speed. He had his arms cross and a frown on his face.

"You don't seem particularly happy today," Harold commented, setting aside the newspaper.

The young man eyed his cousin. "The more I think about, the less I'm convinced I will be interested in this woman. How do you know what she's like if everything that's been said about her is said by her father?"

Harold gave him a sarcastic smile. "Well, that's the reason why we're on our way to meet her."

"There's a high probability it won't go well and if that's the case, I will travel back to York."

His cousin rolled his eyes, reaching for the newspaper. "Very well, cousin dearest."

A thought then occurred to him. Looking up from his newspaper, he said, "Supposing the meeting goes well, and you fancy this girl, what happens then?"

"Then I'll call her the Impossible Girl and will stop at nothing to marry her. And that is with a big 'IF'!"

Harold grinned widely. "Are you willing to bet on the chances of that? The universe can work in strange ways."

John frowned. "Why are you so keen that I like this girl?"

He shrugged innocently. "It will be a nice change of scenery. I always hear stories of how one meeting after another that goes awry."

It would benefit the family too – two of the largest railway companies joined as one. Who wouldn't be tempted at such a thing?

"Remember back when I asked you to taste that one chocolate you thought you hated when you were younger? Well, how would know she's not your 'Impossible Girl' if you've never met her?"

Harold did have a point, but John was still wary. If anything, the match-making plan his cousin and the girl's father came up with is just wasting everybody's time, including his.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello everyone! I hope you're excited to read this chapter just as I was excited to write it. There's a little surprise that I've written in this chapter. Will the meeting go well or will it end in disaster? ;)_

 _Enjoy!_

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Clara paced around her room nervously. Today would be the day she would meet John Foreman. The day she would have to disappoint her father yet again, but could anyone blame her? Why should she spend the rest of her life with a man she didn't love? It's unreasonable.

Her train of thought was disturbed when she heard a knock resounding from her bedroom door.

"Miss Oswald, your father has called for you. He says that the guests will be here any minute," a maid said from the other side.

"Thank you. I'll be downstairs in a moment."

Clara made up her mind. Whatever scheme her father had planned, it wasn't going to work. She may accept her suitor's friendship but that would strictly be it.

Straightening her shoulders, she strode towards the bedroom door and opened it. As she entered the drawing room, she heard her father call her name.

"Ah, Clara, there you are. They will be here any minute now," he said excitedly.

His daughter didn't share his excitement, as she merely nodded and avoided his gaze. If he was so eager for her to marry John Foreman, maybe he should be the one who marries him and not her, but she kept her peace.

Clara heard voices coming from the hallway and knew they had arrived. If only she could figure out a way to escape from this nightmare.

"Harold! I hope you and your cousin had a pleasant journey on the way to London," Dave exclaimed as he shook hands with the man.

A younger, taller man followed behind him and Clara assumed he was the man her father was trying to match-make her with. While she couldn't help but notice his funny chin and the red bowtie, she had a hard time imagining spending the rest of her life with him. Despite this, there a voice at the back of her telling her he seemed familiar but she quickly dismissed this.

He looked equally dismayed. Well, that was, until he laid eyes on her.

"And this must be Miss Oswald," Harold said, taking her hand and kissing it. "It is a pleasure to meet you. Your father spoke highly of you."

She forced a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr…"

"Saxon. Harold Saxon," he replied. "This is my cousin, John Foreman."

The young man gave her a shy smile before he kissed her hand. "Miss Oswald."

"Mr Foreman," she said, returning his smile.

"John, please. The only people who call me Mr Foreman are, well," he said sheepishly, "…everybody else."

"Only if you call me Clara."

"Fair enough."

Harold and Dave exchanged looks, pleased with how things are going so far. John still held her hand and Clara immediately tugged it away.

"So, shall we have lunch then?" Dave asked happily.

"Wonderful. We are famished after the long journey."

As the two men chatted away, Clara and John followed behind at a slower pace. While she felt the need to be anywhere else but in the current situation she was in, her suitor's mood was the exact opposite.

John cleared his throat. "I was told that you recently moved here from Blackpool. How are you liking London so far?"

"I wasn't entirely thrilled with the idea of moving away from my grandmother but eventually, I ended up being fond of living here," Clara explained, smiling at the true reason, thinking about the Doctor.

"London is much busier, isn't it?"

She smiled in agreement, not knowing what else to say as they enter the dining room.

"Allow me," John said as he pulled a chair, beaming.

From the hallway, Donna, Mr Rentford, and several other household members were spying with curiosity.

"Chin boy seems enamoured with Clara," Donna commented. "I can't really tell if the feeling is mutual, though."

"Why are we even eavesdropping? Shouldn't you be in the kitchen, helping?" Mr Rentford said.

His friend rolled her eyes. "Shaun is more than capable of preparing lunch by himself and shouldn't you be in the stables?"

Mr Rentford opened his mouth but no words came out. She had a point. "Fair enough."

However, moments later, they dispersed as the food was almost ready.

"So, John I heard you will be taking over your father's railway company soon," Dave commented.

The young man tried his best at suppressing his frown, giving a half-smile instead. If there was one thing he hated, it was being reminded of his restricted future. He never had any intention of being in the family business from the beginning. He wanted to study to become a doctor – to help people, cure them but his father had insisted he knows what's best.

"It won't be in the near future, of course," Harold interrupted, sensing his cousin's discomfort. Besides, he wasn't going to risk the meeting going awry. "My uncle insisted on John settling down first before taking the next big step."

The remainder of lunch went a lot smoother than Clara had imagined. The conversation, for the most part, involved general topics and she wasn't sure if she should feel glad or suspicious.

"I hope to see you again, Clara Oswald," John said, kissing her hand.

She forced a smile and nodded.

"I'm certain the both of you will in the near future," her father interrupted.

Once the carriage drove away, Clara dropped her smile and turned around to her father who was grinning happily.

"Did you notice the way he looked at you? That man is in love with you!" Dave exclaimed as they retired to the living room.

Clara merely rolled her eyes. "Did you even pay attention to me at all?"

He didn't hear her, too excited at the idea of his daughter getting married. "So what do you think?"

"No."

His jolly mode was immediately killed. "But, I thought the two of you had great chemistry!"

"I don't mind being friends with him – he doesn't seem pompous like most previous failed suitors."

Dave hid both his hands in the pockets of his trousers and pondered. Surely enough they will fall in love if they spend more time together. "I suppose I'll accept it."

Clara nodded, knowing well enough her father only said that to avoid any further arguments. She strode out of the living room and headed straight for the kitchen and almost everyone gathered around her.

"So? Is Chin boy a keeper or another dumpster?" Donna asked, curious if her friend was attracted to the man.

Clara giggled. "He's not a dumpster but 'Chin boy' will be nothing more than a friend."

Donna and Mr Rentford exchanged glances from across the room. There was no doubt about it any longer. Her heart was indeed with a certain doctor.

* * *

"You looked like a puppy the moment you laid eyes on her, cousin dearest," Harold said as soon as the carriage started moving. He stared at his cousin who had a silly grin on his face.

"It's her," John murmured, looking out into the distant, causing Harold to arch his brow. "It's Clara."

"I'm sorry, I'm… a bit lost here. Do you know her? She doesn't seem to know you."

John finally looked at his cousin. "My Clara. The Impossible Girl!"

If Harold was sure of one thing, he felt more confused than before. "What are you talking about?"

"We met once when we were children – she probably doesn't remember. I was only eleven at that time. She must have been seven or eight," John explained happily. "I was at the beach when I saw this girl. She was holding onto a leaf when it blew away. She started crying so I swam into the sea and got it back for her."

His cousin listened to the story and said, "And?"

"The leaf, she said that was what brought her parents together. We played together until her mother told her it was time to leave. I never saw her since."

Harold crossed his leg. "How do you know she's the same girl?"

John smiled. "I could never forget what she looked like. I knew her name."

"I take it we'll be staying in London, then? You won't return to York to sulk?" he teased.

"I don't sulk and yes, I want to see her again."

"Does this also indicate that I should request Idris to be sent here?"

"Of course! Where would I be without her!"

Harold Saxon nodded. "Very well, then and just to be clear, how are you sure she'll remember?"

"I'm sure she'll remember if I tell her the story."

Harold sighed. He thought he knew his cousin well. It seemed he was proven wrong. "What story?"

His cousin merely beamed. "Just a story about the Doctor and his Impossible Girl."


	5. Chapter 5

You guys will be getting a treat today! This chapter is about 2000 words long! Also, there's a bit of drama in here. Enjoy! :D

* * *

John Smith wasn't one for writing a letter to people on a regular basis. He used to write them to his parents every now and then back when they were alive but since his sister resides only an hour away from London, he didn't see the point of constantly keeping in touch with her. She had a habit of making unannounced visits.

However, since he met Clara Oswald, he had written and received more letters he did for a year. So when a new letter came in for him one evening, there was no doubt in his mind Clara wanted to tell him all about her meeting with her suitor.

As he was about to unfold the letter, he heard a loud knock coming from the entrance. His face immediately lit up, as he rose from his seat and walked towards the front door. It must be Clara.

The door swung open, but it wasn't a beautiful woman with a cute nose staring at him with those wide eyes of her. No. It was just his sister, Missy.

She grinned at him. "I have never seen you with that expression before - you expecting company?" she asked, as he stepped aside to let her in. The smile on his face was immediately replaced by a frown.

"No," he denied, closing the door. "To what do I owe you the pleasure, Missy?"

Missy looked around the living room, twirling around. "You were definitely expecting someone. A stupid grin is a rare thing on that face of yours, especially when you have to greet someone at the door."

Her sharp eyes immediately saw the letter her brother held in his right hand. She tried her best not to smile but couldn't help herself.

"What brings you here?" he growled.

She gave him a mock expression of being offended. "I was checking up on you, silly. You haven't written to me in months. Just wanted to be sure my only baby brother isn't dead."

"Well, he's alive and well, thank you. I'm sure you can show yourself out," John replied before retreating into his office.

Missy followed closely behind him before snatching the letter swiftly from his hand.

"Missy!" he hissed as she ran in the opposite direction.

"A love letter!" she exclaimed, plopping herself on the sofa as she scanned through the contents. However, before she had the chance to even read the first paragraph, John snatched it away.

"Get out."

She remained seated, checking her nails. "This is why you're alone and miserable."

"I'm not miserable!" he argued.

His sister rolled her eyes. While he did have a comfortable life as a doctor and part-time lecturer, she knew how terrible he was at being alone. What surprised her, however, was how long he was able to cope with it.

"I don't see anything wrong if you decide to court someone – young, old or even ancient," she teased, earning a scowl from him. "But judging by the handwriting, I'm going to make a wild guess she's a young lady."

John was silent. If he denied everything, she wouldn't believe him the slightest. There was no point arguing with her and he wasn't sure if his relationship with Clara is purely friendship. He was confused.

"So, do you want me to perhaps, start sniffing around or do you want to come clean?"

John glared at his sibling. Why did Missy have to be so… Missy.

* * *

Harold crossed his arms as he looked out the window, waiting for the imminent arrival of Idris. While his cousin was fond of her, he wasn't. They had a bad start the first time he met her and have been ever since.

John on the other hand, was completely ecstatic. While he had only been away from Idris for only a few days, he had missed her terribly.

"So what's the plan, again, once Idris is here?" Harold asked.

The young man turned around excitedly. "Introduce her to Clara, of course! She knows I'm coming to see her today."

"And are you absolutely sure she's the Clara girl you met many moons ago?"

John sighed. "Yes. You've been asking me that eleven times now."

"I just wanted to be sure and I hope for your sake, they'll get off to a good start. Idris hates me."

John merely grinned. "That's because you called her a crazy horse."

Harold pursed his lips. "She is a crazy horse!"

However, before they could continue, they heard the sound of a carriage pulling over.

"She's here!" John exclaimed as he walked past his cousin, walking as fast as his legs could carry him to the front entrance.

When he stepped outside, he was greeted by the sight of a carriage connected to a wagon. Several men then went to the back to unlock the door.

One of the caretakers walked in and a moment later emerged with Idris, John's beloved horse, and best friend.

"Hello, old girl," he murmured, rubbing her face. "Did you miss me? I know I've missed you."

The horse nickered, nuzzling his hand. Her happy mood didn't last very long as soon as she saw Harold Saxon in her sights. She started neighing.

"Hello, Idris," he said, giving her a sarcastic smile. He made sure to be at a safe distance away from her. "I hope you had the most pleasant of journeys."

John immediately diverted her attention. "How about I take you out for a ride? I would like to introduce you to someone."

Idris snorted, and John took that as a yes from her.

"Alright then, I'll let you rest for a while and then saddle you up."

It took a lot of willpower for Harold not to throw another sarcastic remark. His cousin was treating his pet horse as if she was royalty.

"Well, have fun introducing her to Clara. I hope it goes well, unlike what happened to me."

* * *

Clara had thought that the next time she would see John Foreman again, it would at least take a week after the first meeting but no. Apparently, he was eager to talk to her again and introduce her to someone. At least that's what she had been informed.

If there was one place she wanted to go more than anywhere else, it would be to visit the Doctor again. She yearned for his company, but it would seem her plan had to be cancelled as Bowtie or Chin Boy, as everyone had taken to calling John Foreman, will be visiting.

As she waited for his arrival, she couldn't help but be baffled at the sight that greeted her as she looked through the window. Clara had expected John to arrive in a carriage but no, he came all the way to her home riding a horse.

"That's a first," Donna commented, spying from the first floor.

"What is?" asked a maid.

Donna nodded at the window. "Chin Boy came here riding a horse."

Everyone rushed to where Donna stood. Some of the girls giggled.

"I bet he's going to win Clara's heart."

"He looks so dashing!"

Donna silently looked on. It looks like Dr John Smith has a serious competitor.

"Throughout my life, I have never had any of my suitors come galloping by on a horse," Clara commented as she stepped outside, just when John dismounted from the animal.

"First for everything, I suppose," he replied, taking her hand and kissing it.

She pulled her hand away immediately and decided to change the subject by admiring the horse. "Is this the 'someone' you wanted to introduce me to?"

John smiled proudly. "Yes. Clara, this is Idris. Idris, this is Clara Oswald."

"She's beautiful."

The horse, however, wasn't as pleased to meet a stranger. It snorted.

"Thank you, she was given to me as a birthday present for my 27th birthday from my father," John said as they began to walk to the gardens. Idris followed behind quietly, led by her master.

"I see, I can see that the both of you are good friends."

He merely nodded, his mind occupied over how to tell Clara he was her childhood friend. "Speaking of friends," he began. "Have you ever been to the beach before?"

Clara stared at John with a flabbergasted look. It was an odd question. "Yes, of course… why do you ask?"

He smiled at her nervously. "Do you remember how the leaf you cherish so much, blew away and a boy swam into the sea to retrieve it for you?"

His question had caused her to stop dead in her tracks. She remembered the story, even after 20 years. She cherished the memory of spending the whole day with the boy who got his clothes wet just to return the leaf to her.

"You're the same John I met…" she stammered.

He grinned at her. "Hello, my Impossible Girl," he murmured before enveloped her in a hug and twirled her around the garden.

Once he set her down, she placed a hand on his cheek. "You look different," she commented.

"I think it's because I frown so much these days from being forced to court women," he joked.

Idris began snorting, and they kept some distance between them, they continued walking.

"I thought I would never see you again after that day. You were the first few friends I ever made."

"I'm glad fate has brought us together again."

Idris began snorting again, she was growing impatient. John calmed her down by stroking her mane.

Clara stared at the animal warily. "She seems agitated if you ask me."

"Sorry, but Idris tends to get impatient if we're out in the open and I don't take her out for a ride. Perhaps you would like to ride her?"

Clara's eyes widened. "Oh no, I don't think that's a good idea."

John chuckled. "I promise you she doesn't bite. Besides, she doesn't misbehave when I'm with her. Come on," he beckoned.

She looked at the horse and then back at John before placing her hand in his palm. "Alright, I suppose I could give it a shot."

He helped her mount the horse and for the first few moments, Idris was calm, but the next thing Clara knew, the horse began neighing.

"Idris, calm down!" John said, but she became more aggressive by the second.

"John, I think-"

The horse dashed off by surprise and because Clara was inexperienced, she fell instantly.

"Clara!" John yelled, rushing to her side. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," she replied as an automatic response.

As he helped her up, Clara winced in pain as her left leg felt as if it was broken. "You're not fine - I'm so sorry," he murmured.

"It's not your fault, John. I should have been more careful."

"Can you walk?" he asked

"I think my leg is broken but if we walk slowly-" she didn't get the chance to finish as John lifted her up in his arms and carried her back to the mansion.

Clara was surprised at first but then she started laughing at the thought of it. "John, please, this is unnecessary!"

"The least I can do is minimise your pain as much as possible," he said sheepishly. "I don't think your father will be pleased to know that his daughter had a little accident."

Clara laughed once more. If anything, he would be pleased, knowing that her 'suitor' carried her in his arms after she broke her leg.

* * *

John Smith had closed his practice almost 12 minutes ago and usually, he would retreat to his office to unwind or even make himself some tea but the fact that Missy stuck around made it impossible for him to truly relax. She had been in his home for hours now and it would seem she didn't have the intention of leaving.

"Shouldn't you be leaving?" he asked the moment he entered the living room.

Missy looked up from her book. "What's wrong if I plan to stay overnight? That guest bedroom of yours is only collecting dust."

"You didn't bring any spare clothes so I'm deducing you're not here to stay overnight."

"What if I did?"

John glared at his sister but before he could argue further, there was frantic knocking coming from the front door.

"Better get that. Sounds like someone's desperate for help."

He strode to the door and unlocked it, greeted by the sight of a panic looking Mr Rentford.

John furrowed his brows. "Mr Rentford, what brings you here?"

"Doctor, please, could you come with me. Clara had an accident -"

That was all it took for John to grab his coat, bag and hat before rushing out with Mr Rentford. He didn't even bother closing the door.

In fact, it was Missy who stood at the entrance, watching silently as the carriage drove away.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you for your support and reviews. Now, how will 12 react when he finds out Clara got injured while riding a horse? Let's find out._

* * *

John jumped out of the carriage as soon as it came to a halt in front of the mansion. He strode to the front door, walking past several people who told him where Clara was and marched up the stairs.

His mind was running wildly. He didn't know how serious the injuries Clara had sustained, but Mr Rentford had briefly told him she fell off a horse.

The moment he reached her bedroom, he saw Donna glaring menacingly at a guilt-ridden young man. John knew it was Clara's suitor. Speaking of Clara, she was in bed, her back resting against the headboard, cushioned by several pillows.

"Oh, Doctor, you're finally here," Clara said, as she granted him a smile.

He tried his best to calm down as he stepped inside. While he was relieved she seemed to be fine, he wasn't sure how serious she had injured herself.

"Right, since the Doctor's here, I'm gonna wait outside," Donna said, rising from the chair.

"I'm so sorry this happened," John Foreman apologised once more as he left the room.

Clara shook her head. "You've said that a hundred times now, John. I'm fine. Probably a bruised leg."

He granted her a sad smile before disappearing into the hallway. Donna, on the other hand, remained where she was.

"Don't try anything funny, Medicine Boy," she warned before taking her leave as well, closing the door behind her and standing guard outside.

The Doctor was left in a confused state. Had he been missing something? Why did she look like she was ready to yell? He had so many questions to ask.

"You shouldn't take it personally," Clara spoke, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Donna is my best friends, so I think it's only natural she gets a bit protective."

John immediately rushed to her side and placed his bag on the nightstand. "How are you feeling? Does your leg feel numb? Are you experiencing a burning sensation in your leg?" he asked frantically.

"Doctor, I am absolutely fine. Like I said, it's probably just a bruise."

He nodded silently before he looked down at his feet. "If you don't mind, I still have to check it… which leg is it?" he said quietly, almost in a whisper. "Sorry."

"Left leg," she replied, amused at how John was behaving like a shy teenager.

He drew the covers slightly and began examining her ankle with shaky hands. He had done this sort of thing numerous times before so there was no reason for him to be nervous, but he was, and he hoped Clara didn't notice his strange behaviour.

She hissed in a pain when he applied pressure to the bruise, confirming his suspicions. "I can happily say you don't have any broken bones -just a twisted ankle," he murmured, pulling the covers. "I'll tell… your best friend to get some ice."

"See, I told you."

He wrinkled his nose. "Could have been worse and I would have hated to see that."

"I'm sure John would be doing more than just apologising if that were the case," she answered.

John glanced at the door. He didn't see why he couldn't have a quick conversation with her, and so he took a seat in the chair next to the bed. "Ah, so the man with the funny chin has a name."

Clara smiled at him. "Do I sense jealousy?"

"Why would I be jealous?" he replied a bit too quickly.

"I don't know, why would you be jealous?"

Here they were, dancing around each other once again. The Doctor glanced away from her.

"Did you get my letter?" she questioned, changing the subject.

"I did," he answered, producing the letter from his jacket pocket. "Although, I haven't had the chance to read it."

"I'll just put you up to speed then."

He stared at her. "I should be leaving."

Silence surrounded the room, both not saying a word before they glanced at each other again started laughing quietly. "I will ask your friend to fetch an ice pack for real this time."

The Doctor strode to the door, pulled it opened and told Donna to get an ice pack.

"Fine, but like I said, try anything funny Medicine Boy and I'll kick you all the way to the police station," she said, eyeing John like a hawk.

He refrained from rolling his eyes and closed the door shut.

"I take it she does that to everyone?" he commented, taking his seat.

"Almost everyone – anyway, so, as it turns out John Foreman is a childhood friend of mine."

The Doctor's attack eyebrows arched up.

"I only found out today – before falling off his horse."

It made a lot of sense why the young man looked at Clara as if she was the stars. He was smitten with her from the very beginning.

"I take it the two of you are serious then?"

"What? No!" she denied immediately. "I don't see why I have to fall for him just because we met once when we were children."

"And yet, here he is, probably thinking about you downstairs. I think you like him… but it was reckless of him to let you anywhere near his untamed horse."

Clara wasn't entirely sure what possessed her that moment but her left arm seemed to be moving by itself as it held John's hand. "One, Idris was well-behaved. I suppose she was spooked by a stranger being near her, and two, believe me, it's going to take a lot more than just a handsome face to make me fall for someone."

The Doctor caressed her hand gently, smiling at her. "Maybe you will."

"Maybe my mind has made up."

John sighed. Why would Clara want an old fool like him? She deserves better and the young man with the funny chin seems like the ideal husband for her.

"How about we give some time? Perhaps you'll change your mind?" he suggested, and he could see the anger and annoyance bubbling inside her and so, he grabbed her hand with both of his and pressed a long gentle kiss to the back of her hand, never breaking eye contact.

A knock was heard, and both were initially startled before distancing themselves away from one another.

Clara cleared her throat as John stood up. "Come in."

* * *

As Donna marched down the stairs, she walked past John who looked like a kicked puppy, waiting for any sort of news.

"How is Clara?" he questioned her.

Donna glared at the young man and he slowly backed away. "The Doctor told me to get an ice pack so I'm guessing she's fine."

He followed her to the kitchen. "What else did he say? She hasn't broken any bones, has she?"

"The Doctor didn't mention that, so I guess her bones are still intact," she replied, fighting the urge to add a comment about breaking his bones.

"Can I deliver the ice pack?" John asked. "Please, it's the least I can do. I still feel very much guilty of what transpired."

She reluctantly handed him the ice pack and he smiled at her gratefully before rushing out of the kitchen.

"Oh boy, John and John are going to be properly introduced."

John Foreman raced up the steps with the ice pack in one hand, stopping in front of Clara's bedroom door before knocking.

"Come in."

He twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. He couldn't really tell why but there was a strange kind of silence in the room when he entered, but he brushed it off. "I have your ice pack."

"Thank you, you can just give it to me," the Doctor said a bit harshly before drawing the covers slightly to place the ice pack on her bruised ankle.

Sensing the two men aren't off to a good start, Clara decided to introduce them to one another, "John, this my Doctor, Dr John Smith, and Doctor, this my friend, John Foreman."

The two men didn't shake hands but merely acknowledge one another.

"I would advise you to tame your horse properly before letting anyone near it to avoid this kind of predicament. Miss Oswald could have suffered more serious injuries."

John Foreman was taken back by the comment. "My horse is well tamed, thank you very much, but Idris got a bit too excited about being out in the open. I can assure you it won't happen again."

Before the Doctor could throw another insult, Dave Oswald dashed into the room. "Clara! Are you alright, darling?"

Clara groaned. She was sure that was the 12th time she heard the same question. "Yes, I am fine. The Doctor said I've only bruised my ankle. Can everyone stop acting as if I'm on my deathbed?"

All three men stared at her.

Dave caressed her hair. "I'm sorry, I was only concerned."

"I think it's time for me to leave," the Doctor said as he grabbed his bag.

"Thank you, Dr Smith, once again," Dave said. "Just send me the bill and I will pay it immediately."

"Mr Oswald, if you don't mind, I'd like to pay for the bill - it's only right after what happened."

Dave nodded. "We can talk about that later," he then diverted his attention back to the Doctor. "Just send me the bill and thank you for well, taking care of my daughter."

"The pleasure is mine, Mr Oswald," he said, taking a quick glance at Clara before leaving.

Once Dave and John left the room to let Clara rest, Dave began speaking. "Would like to tell me what happened? Mr Rentford said Clara was riding your horse when she fell."

John wanted to do nothing more than to hide under a rock or let the ground swallow him. Anything but being questioned by his possible future father-in-law.

The young man cleared his throat. "That's exactly what happened, and I apologise Mr Oswald, I'm sure you're angry with me and you have every right-"

"Nonsense, boy! I was very concerned for Clara's well-being but it's only going to bring the two of you closer together."

"You're not mad, sir?"

"No, no, no. It was an accident. Hardly your fault but I am impressed you're taking responsibility. I tell you what. Clara, she loves having dinner at this one restaurant called 'Gallifrey'. Why don't you make amends by having dinner with her say, in three days time?"

John smiled. "I do believe that's a good idea."

"Brilliant!" Dave exclaimed. "Now, for dessert, I would recommend you order the chocolate soufflé – that's her favourite."

The two men chatted away, unaware that she was only falling deeper for John Smith and not John Foreman.


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! And if you're here for chapter 7, enjoy! :)_

* * *

Dave Oswald sat behind his desk, signing all the invitations which will be posted tomorrow. His 60th birthday was coming up in three weeks and because he was so thrilled with his daughter's love life and life in general, he decided to throw a lavish celebration. His mind was at ease as he knew it would only be a matter of time before Clara falls in love with John Foreman.

Speaking of his daughter, the doors to his study swung open and she strode in.

"Donna said you needed to see me," Clara said, a puzzled look on her face. She was about to leave for dinner with John when she was told to see her father shortly after asking Mr Rentford to bring the carriage around.

Dave beamed before standing up and handing her one of the sealed envelopes. "Would you be so kind as to pass this to Mr Foreman. Tell him that both he and his cousin are invited to the party."

Clara said nothing as she took the letter. The moment her father's birthday party was mentioned, she wanted nothing more than to invite the Doctor. At the very least, she wouldn't have to spend a substantial amount of time with John Foreman, as much as she adored her childhood friend.

Her father had told her she could invite her friends and so, she had, including her best friend, Amy Pond but she had wondered if it would cast suspicions if she invited John Smith. To Dave's knowledge, he was just the family doctor.

"Clara?" her father said, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Is something else the matter?"

It's now or never.

"I was just wondering if we could maybe invite the Doctor? He has been kind to me and even refused to receive payment the first time he came here so I think it's only fair if he's invited."

Dave pondered the suggestion for a moment before he made his decision. "Very well, then."

Going around his desk, he quickly grabbed a pen and scribbled the Doctor's name on the invitation letter. "It's Dr John Smith, right?" he muttered.

"Yes."

After placing the letter in the envelope, Dave handed the letter to his daughter. "Tell Mr Rentford to deliver it to him after he drops you off at Gallifrey."

Clara merely smiled before leaving the room. She had other plans.

"Enjoy your dinner with John!"

* * *

"I don't understand why you have to drag me here to this restaurant when we could have dinner at home," John Smith complained as he and his sister waited outside the entrance to be seated.

Missy rolled her eyes in annoyance. "I can think of a few – one, because I want to – two, you don't have any food at home – three, I didn't want to buy any food for you since you're a grown man and four, even if I did, I don't feel like cooking."

"But why did you have to drag me here?"

"Well, I can't let my baby brother starve, now can I? What are you planning to have for dinner at home – air?" she responded.

"I would have had something light and cheap."

Missy chuckled. "Tonight, you're having something delicious and expensive."

"Table for two?" asked a waiter who approached them.

"Yes," John replied immediately before Missy had the chance to give a sarcastic answer.

"Right this way."

As the waiter was guiding them to their table, John spotted two familiar faces among the patrons – Clara and her Chin Boy, but what caught his attention was obviously Clara. He couldn't help but admire over how beautiful she looked in the blue dress she was wearing. He was sure she would look beautiful in any dress. John couldn't help but smile at the thought of it.

However, he soon realised his current situation and the expression on his face morphed into that of horror. If Missy ever found out about this, well, he couldn't really imagine what would happen, but it wouldn't be good for him or them. One thing for sure is that she would embarrass him a great deal.

"You look like you saw a ghost," his sister said calmly as they took their seats. "Just a moment ago, you were being your grumpy-self and now you're behaving strangely."

"I'm not behaving strangely," John defended, trying to sound as calm as possible.

The waiter returned with two menus and left shortly after.

Missy examined his face intently before cracking a smile.

He's done for.

"You're actually glad I took you here, aren't you? You're always hungry so it's no surprise," she said, pulling out a compact mirror to check her face.

It took him a lot of willpower to not let out a sigh of relief. "No comment."

John never felt so relieved in his entire life.

Missy closed her compact mirror shut with a reassuring click.

"Or does it have something to do with that stupid smile on your face you had twelve seconds ago?"

He was sure his heart had a mini heart attack when she dropped the bomb.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

Missy glanced at the direction where Clara Oswald and John Foreman were seated.

She grinned at her brother. "You sly dog! Chasing after married women!"

"She's not married!" John said through gritted teeth.

"Engaged."

"Not engaged."

"Being courted then."

"It's a bit more complicated than that, I'm afraid."

Missy chuckled. "Relax, I'm just pulling your leg - already knew who she after doing some sniffing around, shall we say, since you were being so discreet about the letter she wrote you. It doesn't take a doctor to put the pieces together. Well educated, wealthy family, probably lives in a big mansion somewhere. Father is probably well known. Easy-peasy."

"Don't interfere," John warned.

"I have no intention to."

The Doctor was sure he was the only person who knew what Missy's actual job was. She would often say she works as a governess, but John knew his sister well. She was far too intelligent to be teaching children, far too adventurous and cunning to live a simple life. What people didn't know was that Missy Smith is a criminal consultant.

"So, you and this Oswald girl – how serious is the relationship because by the looks of it, she doesn't fancy Chin Boy at all," Missy commented. "Well, maybe just a bit."

The Doctor glanced to his right to see Clara and John Foreman chatting. He didn't see anything odd about that but upon closer inspection, he could tell that Chin Boy was doing most of the talking. Clara was simply nodding or smiling.

"What do you mean just a bit?" he asked, a hint of jealousy in the tone of his voice.

"You didn't answer my question."

John ran his hand through his messy silver curls. "I don't know – I told her to give Chin Boy a chance."

"You may be a doctor, but you are also an idiot. Doctor Idiot."

The same waiter who handed them the menus came over. "Are we ready to order?" he asked with a wide smile on his face.

Once Missy and John had placed their orders, they continued their conversation.

"Idiot," she repeated. "You're given a chance to find someone and what do you do – tell that person to find someone else."

"I only told her to give some time. Maybe she'll change her mind and not end up with an 'idiot' like me."

"Thank God she hasn't," Missy replied calmly, smiling. "Change her mind, that is."

The Doctor glanced at where Clara was seated, and he realised she was staring back at him.

* * *

"It wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear, and he had no intention of leaving the company to Harold, so I had no choice but to read Economics," John Foreman explained.

"I'm sorry, John," Clara said sincerely. "I can still remember what you told me that day – you wanted to be the Doctor. Not a doctor but the Doctor. The very best."

John smiled at her, touched that she still remembers his silly ramblings as a child.

They were both talking about their childhood and teenage years. John had planned to go to medical school, but his dream was cut short when his father demanded him to abandon his plans of becoming a doctor and run one of the smaller railway companies he owned.

"It's fine, Clara – maybe I could manage the company for a few years and then return to university," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "I can't give in easily."

Clara placed a comforting hand on his before her eyes caught a familiar figure. Her brows furrowed in confusion. She was sure the man is John Smith and her guess was correct when he glanced at her. She noticed that he was seated with a woman and she couldn't help but feel as if her heart being ripped apart.

"Clara, what is it?" John asked before glancing back to see the Doctor seated across the restaurant. "Ah, him."

The Doctor rose from his chair and walked over to them, followed by the mysterious woman. "Miss Oswald, what a happy coincidence," he said, taking her hand and kissing it.

"A happy coincidence indeed, Dr Smith," she replied, beaming at him. Her skin tingled when his lips made contact with her skin.

"This is my sister, by the way," the Doctor said. "Missy, Miss Oswald, Miss Oswald, Missy, and Missy, this is Clara's, erm, friend, Mr…"

"Foreman," John said, taking her hand kissing it.

Clara was relieved to find out that the woman was the Doctor's sister.

While Clara got on well with Missy, the two Johns just stood next to each other, avoiding eye contact.

"I hope your horse's demeanour has improved since we last met," the Doctor said.

"She certainly has. Even went as far as apologising to Clara by handing her a bouquet of flowers. She has **manners**."

"Good to know."

"And my horse has a name – Idris."

"Maybe her manners would improve if she had a better name."

Their conversation was cut short when the two women started giggling.

"It was lovely to meet you," Missy said as she shook hands with Clara. "We must have lunch sometime."

The Doctor furrowed his brows. Those words would never come from his sister. Not from Missy Smith.

"That would be wonderful."

The day that happens is the day John Smith kisses Clara Oswald.

The two siblings returned to their table.

"See, it wasn't that bad."

"You've just made it worse, I think."

Missy grinned. "Nonsense and besides, I like her – she's definitely your type."

* * *

The following day, John Smith got a surprise visit from Clara in the evening, shortly after closing his practice.

He heard a knock and shut the book he was reading before yelling from the living room. "Go away, Missy."

"I'm definitely not Missy!" piped Clara from outside.

John threw the book on the sofa before running to the door. "I'm sorry, I thought my sister was here to bother me again," he explained before stepping aside to let her in. "Please, come in."

"Thank you – I actually came here for a good reason," she murmured, staring into his bright blue eyes.

They were only inches apart due to the narrow hallway but none of them had the intention of moving. John couldn't find the right words to describe what he was feeling – he felt as if his heart would jump out of his chest.

"I always believe you are here for a good reason," he whispered.

Clara held up the white envelope. "Father has invited you to his birthday celebration – there will be everything - food, wine, dancing-"

"Dancing?!"

Her smile immediately disappeared as she saw the horrified look on John's face.

The Doctor immediately distanced himself. "I'm flattered to have been invited but I don't think-"

He stopped talking the moment he saw the sadness in her eyes. "How do you do that?" he asked.

She knitted her eyebrows. "Do what?"

"Your eyes! It's as if they can inflate!" he explained before realising his mistake. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. It wasn't my intention to be rude – you have beautiful eyes…"

Clara giggled at his frantic behaviour. "Doctor, please, you have to come. It will be wonderful."

"I can't dance," he confessed. "I haven't danced for ages and I'm bad with people."

He felt as if his brain was about to short-circuit. He wanted to do nothing more than to kiss her when she beamed at him, making her dimples visible. His sister is right – he is an idiot. How could he say no to those eyes, to that beautiful face.

"I'll teach you then," she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the centre living room.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you for_ your _reviews and support. I hope you'll enjoy reading this chapter ;)_

* * *

He never did like physical contact. The Doctor had always thought of the idea as strange but when Clara Oswald held his hand, his mind was at ease. In fact, he wouldn't mind being like this a bit longer.

"Right," she began, letting go of his hand. "Do you remember anything at all about dancing?"

He gave her a sheepish look before avoiding eye contact. This was beyond embarrassing. "Try not to step the other person's feet?"

His reply caused Clara to giggle. "Let's see if you could follow my lead," she said, grabbing his hand.

John tried his best not to seem nervous, but his shaky hand contradicted his demeanour as he gently held her waist.

"Doctor, we haven't even started yet and you look as if you stepped on my foot," Clara commented, causing him to look at her. She heard him mumble an apology. "The apology is unnecessary… just relax."

"Well, sorry in advance if I step on your foot," he said sheepishly before she took the lead.

As they began dancing across the living room, John kept looking at his feet, mindful of not to step on hers. It wasn't too long ago that Clara had a bruised ankle – he didn't want to make it worse.

"Doctor, my eyes are up here, not on the floor," she teased.

He instantly looked up and locked eyes with her.

"See, you're not hurting my feet at all and you're doing very well for someone who hasn't danced in a while."

He granted her a smile. "That's because I have a wonderful teacher."

His compliment caused her cheeks to heat up and redden. John's smile became wider. Clara looked even more stunning when her cheeks were slightly flushed and now she was the one avoiding his gaze and staring at the ground.

"Don't be silly," she murmured.

"What's wrong with silly?"

"Nothing, still talking to you, aren't I?"

They shared a laugh together before John twirled her around and then bringing Clara back into his arms.

"Dr Smith, I think you're doing too well," she teased once more.

She spoke too soon as John stepped on her right foot by accident and in his state of panic, tripped, sending them both crashing to the ground. Well, just him since Clara was lying on top of him.

They stared at each other, not daring to make a single sound as the room became silent. Their faces were merely inches apart. John still had one arm wrapped around Clara's waist, his brain unable to function properly due to the beautiful woman lying on top of him, bodies pressed together.

Eventually, they burst out laughing.

"Hello, I'm Clara Oswald."

"Hello Clara Oswald, I'm John Smith."

Neither of them had any intention of getting up from the floor just yet. They were enjoying the moment.

"Nice to meet you, John Smith – you seem to have a knack for always saving me."

He smiled warmly at her. "I'm a doctor – that's what I do."

They stared at each other before Clara slowly leaned in. Their noses touched and lips millimetres away… until the grandfather clock in the room began chiming.

Clara instantly looked up at the clock. She had to return home. Poor Mr Rentford was probably waiting outside, wondering if he'll get fired if he didn't pick up Dave on time.

"I have to go," she said, moving away from the Doctor. "Mr Rentford has to pick up my father."

"Of course," was all John could manage. He was still flustered from their near-kiss.

"You will come to the party, won't you?" Clara asked with pleading eyes.

How could he ever say no to her?

"Yes," he replied, almost in a whisper before she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

She beamed at him. "Brilliant!" she exclaimed before running out of the living room. "I hope to dance with you again!"

Cheeks red, heart racing, pupils dilating… what has Clara Oswald done to him? He grinned as he watched the carriage roll away. He was looking forward to it. Three weeks. He has three weeks to prepare properly.

* * *

"This is your chance to woo her!" Harold exclaimed, reading the invitation for the third time.

John rolled his eyes as he continued eating his dinner. His cousin had kept telling him to step up his game, but he didn't see why he had to rush things. He wanted to get to know Clara better – enjoy every moment of their friendship.

"John, are you listening?"

"Yes, I am, Harold and if you keep that any longer, you'll sound just like father."

Harold set the letter aside. "All I'm trying to say is you need to make her fall in love with you – all you've been doing is treating her like a friend."

"Clara is my friend - we started out as friends and the last thing I want to do is ruin that. I know what I'm doing," John argued, the annoyance in his tone evident.

"Alright, fine – just don't let the girl get swooned by somebody else."

* * *

The weeks passed by rather quickly and before anybody knew it, it was the day of Dave's birthday celebration. Most of the guests consisted of Dave's close friends and family, including Clara's grandmother.

Even Clara's best friend and childhood friend, Amy Pond was there, along with her husband, Rory Williams.

"So, where exactly is this suitor of yours – and by suitor I'm talking about the one you mentioned in your letters – John Foreman – you met him when you were a child, right?" Amy questioned, as the two women stood in a corner, chatting.

Clara sipped her champagne before rolling her eyes. "I told you – we're just friends," she insisted before deciding to reveal the truth about the Doctor. She hadn't said much about him in the letter she wrote to Amy aside from mentioning that the new family doctor is kind and attentive. She would rather tell Amy about her secret in person.

"And actually, there's someone-" she was instantly cut off when Amy spotted a handsome looking man.

"Oh, is that him?!" her friend exclaimed, nodding to the man who entered the room and looked straight in their direction.

He wore a crisp white shirt, black vest, black trousers and a red velvet coat that, while it may look ridiculous on most people, suited his appearance.

"You didn't tell me he was older."

Clara was lost for words as she stared at the Doctor. He looked dashing and his unruly curly hair was slicked back, something that complimented his appearance further.

The Doctor smiled at her, all eyes seem to be on him before he walked away to get a drink.

"Clara, Clara," Amy said, "I know he's handsome and everything but if you keep that up, people are going to stare."

Finally, she came back to reality. "What…"

Amy giggled. "He's coming our way!"

She turned the other way and indeed, the Doctor was walking towards them. What puzzled her was that his face was a confusion and concern.

"Uhm, are you alright? Your eyes are inflating again," he said awkwardly, trying to ignore the strange look he was getting from the woman next to Clara.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," she said a bit too loudly, letting out a nervous laugh. "Anyway, this is my best friend, Amy, the Doctor – Doctor, Amy."

"It's finally a pleasure to meet – I've heard so much about you," Amy said, shaking his hand, thinking he was John Foreman. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to look for my husband – he probably got lost trying to find the toilet."

Amy gave Clara a sly look, nodding to the dance floor where people were dancing.

"You look stunning tonight," John murmured.

"I can say the same about you, Dr Smith – the colour suits you."

They immediately looked away, smiling before John mustered all the courage he had to ask her to dance. "Would care for a dance? I've been practising with my sister since we last met – she wasn't exactly a good teacher, though… kept hitting me every time I stepped on her foot."

The music stopped as the musicians tuned their instrument for the next song.

Clara chuckled. "Are you sure you didn't do it on purpose?" she placed her hand in his as he led her to the dance floor.

"Maybe I did after the third time she hit me," he said quietly, placing a hand on waist.

Music began playing and everyone began dancing.

They only had eyes for each other at that moment. Nothing else mattered and everybody else was out of the picture as it was just them in their bubble.

"I'm impressed – you've improved, Doctor."

He beamed at her, proud of his dancing skills. "As I've said before, I have an excellent teacher."

"John, what are you doing standing here like an idiot!" Harold hissed. He had expected his cousin to be the first to dance with Clara Oswald but that wasn't the case. Instead, a magician appeared out of nowhere and stole the girl.

John Foreman was staring the dancing couple. He couldn't describe what he was feeling – jealousy with a hint of anger, maybe. He didn't expect the old man to be invited, and he certainly didn't think he would dance with Clara.

"John, are you listening?"

The young man turned to look at Harold, glaring at him. The expression on his face alone caused his cousin to immediately shut his mouth.

John Foreman had arrived exactly 11 minutes ago. He had every intention of searching for Clara but some of his father's friends instantly recognised him and stalled him. He could see from across the room Dave Oswald, a confused expression on his face as he watched the Doctor and Clara dance.

The moment the music ended, everyone in the room began clapping in cheering. All attention was on the two and they didn't notice it until they stopped dancing.

John took his chance and headed straight in their direction as another song began playing. He tapped on the Doctor's shoulder and forced a smile.

"I hope you don't mind if I dance with Clara," he said with a tight smile.

The Doctor quickly glanced at her before he too forced a smile. "Not at all."

However, he never let go of her hand. The two were locked in a staring contest before Clara cut in to avoid any undesirable situations. She squeezed his hand before pulling away.

"I'd be happy to dance with you, John."

He turned to look at her and this time, his smile was warm and sincere.

Clara forced a smile. She felt guilty and sorry for John Foreman. He truly deserved better.

"Did you like the book I got you?" he questioned. "I was told you love reading Jane Austen novels, so I went to the bookshop and bought you one."

"I love it and I'm halfway finished!"

He grinned. "Perhaps I could buy one that's signed? I know a friend who knows a friend who knows a man who owns a bookshop-" he stopped when he saw the amused expression on Clara's face. "Sorry, I'm being silly, aren't I?"

"What's wrong with silly?"

"Nothing," he replied, grinning from ear to ear. "But I would love to take you to the bookshop I mentioned."

Half of her wanted to decline the offer but the other half told to say yes. A visit to the bookshop wouldn't hurt anybody. "I'd love to."

From one corner of the room, Rory furrowed his brows. "I'm confused – which one is John… Foreman, again?"

"The man with the red coat there," Amy said. "… but I'm not so sure now - Clara did he say he's a doctor, but she mentioned John Foreman being an heir to a railway company."

Amy stared at the couple dancing before glancing at the Doctor. He had a strange look plastered on his face and she couldn't help but notice that he had his hands in his pockets.

Her attention was diverted when Dave Oswald walked passed her.

"Oh, Mr Oswald, happy birthday!" she said.

He granted her a warm smile. "Thank you, Amy… if you'll excuse me," he murmured, dropping his smile immediately as he strode towards where Harold stood.

The music ended and once more, there was clapping.

Clara looked around the room and spotted the man she was looking for. He stood close to the hallway that led to the gardens. Perhaps she could talk in private with him, but she had no such luck as Shaun, the chef, rolled in with the large cake.

Her father beckoned her and John Foreman to stand next to him as he cut the cake, earning cheers. Clara searched for the Doctor and saw him where he was, but he had a sad look on his face. Her father invited her and John to stand next to him on purpose. It was a message.

She was going to have a word with him once the party is over.

Her train of thought, however, was interrupted when she felt someone grabbing her hand and patting it – her grandmother. She gave her a sympathetic smile. It would seem she understood.


	9. Chapter 9

_We're going to be getting lots of drama in this chapter. I'm not sorry for what's going to happen. *evil music*_

* * *

The party had ended just two hours ago with most of the guests leaving. Amy and Rory were still present in the Oswald mansion, but they were invited to stay in one of the guest bedrooms and that was where they were, discussing the events which had unfolded.

"So just to be clear," Rory said, plopping on the bed before loosening the top button of his shirt. "The first man who danced with Clara isn't her suitor but the second was?"

Amy nodded. "Yes, that's what Clara told me."

"Two hearts for one," her husband murmured.

"Pardon?"

He cleared his throat. "I was just saying – two hearts for one – they're both after her."

His wife then added, "And looked as if they were ready to murder each other – anyway, I'm going to check up on Clara… she seemed upset."

* * *

"Did you see the way Clara and Medicine Boy looked at each other?" Donna Noble exclaimed as she washed the dishes in the kitchen.

"Donna, anybody with eyes could tell they're attracted to one another," Shaun replied, cutting the remainder of the cake into smaller pieces to distribute to the household.

She splashed a small amount of water on him. "You saying I'm blind?!"

"That's not what I meant, darling," he replied, suppressing a smile. How could he not fall in love with this woman?

"So, is 'Medicine Boy' going to steal her away from 'Chin Boy'? I have my money on the young one," piped one of the kitchen helpers. Several other people murmured in agreement.

"Oh yeah, Chin Boy looked pretty jealous and even cut in, but I doubt Clara feels as strongly for him as she does for Medicine Boy," Donna added. "What do you think, Henry?"

Mr Rentford put down the fork he held, taking his time to chew his food before answering, "No comment – I prefer to stay out of this… discussion."

"Oh, come on!" she encouraged. "We know-"

"Not so loud!"

"We know where you took Clara whenever she says she needs 'fresh air'," she said in a low voice.

He sighed. "You know my answer."

"So Chin Boy doesn't stand a chance, then?" a young man enquired.

Henry Rentford merely pursed his lips. If he was honest, nobody in the entire world except John Smith could win Clara Oswald's heart and in a way, he felt sorry for the Foreman boy – he seemed like a sweet and caring young man. Perhaps, if things were different, then maybe he stood a chance.

* * *

Clara hugged the pillow she held in her arms, sitting crossed leg on the bed as she listened to her grandmother. Her best friend sat next to her, placing a comforting hand on her arm.

"I know it upsets you, but you shouldn't ignore your father – talk to him," her grandmother coaxed gently. "Tell him the truth."

Her granddaughter shook her head. "He wouldn't understand – you know what he's like."

"Clara, you can't just ignore him forever," Amy reasoned. "I know that you're in a difficult situation but please, you can't run away from it."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not running away from anything – I'm just afraid of what might happen if I tell father the truth… please, can we talk about something else – I promise you I will talk to him at some point, but I just want to forget what happened."

Amy and Clara's grandmother exchanged looks before the latter, patted her granddaughter's hand. "The first man you danced with, tell me about him – you only mentioned him being a doctor."

Clara finally relaxed. "The Doctor runs his own practice, he has a sister who he finds annoying-"

"I think your nan meant your relationship with him," her best friend cut in, giggling. "Come on, tell us, have you two kissed?"

She huffed. "Don't be ridiculous, Dr Smith is nothing but a gentleman…," she explained, while at the same time contemplating on whether to tell her best friend and grandmother about the near-kiss. "But we almost kissed when I taught him how to dance."

The older woman arched a brow. "Oh my, what happened?"

"We got interrupted by the grandfather clock."

All three women shared a laugh before Amy asked, "What about Chin Boy?"

Clara sighed before she explained everything from their first meeting to when John Foreman told her she was her childhood friend and even the accident that took place.

"Now it makes sense why he looks so smitten!"

"You're not helping," Clara groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "I really don't want to break John's heart, but I have to tell him the truth… he's so sweet and kind and deserves someone better…"

"But you love the doctor more," her grandmother finished.

"And that's another problem."

"I have to be honest, Clara, I didn't expect you to fall for an older man – don't get me wrong, he's definitely good looking for his age but I thought John Foreman was more of your type," Amy commented, getting hit with a pillow.

"Shut up, it just so happens that the man I fell in love with is older."

Her nan smiled. "If you don't want the Foreman boy, can I have him?" she joked, causing the two girls to laugh.

* * *

Morning came by and breakfast was a quiet affair. Dave was unusually silent, and Clara was ignoring her father completely, preferring to talk to her best friend and her husband. It made both Amy and Rory feel awkward, but they soon left the mansion to catch their train.

While waiting for Clara to return from the station, Dave paced around the study, thinking about what Harold had said to him the previous night.

He had expressed his concerns that the Doctor might be trying to steal Clara away from John and Harold had specifically said he would have a private word with the man. Dave wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he had hoped it was nothing more than a few strong words, after all, he did deliver a strong message to stay away from his daughter and hopefully, that should be enough.

Dave heard a soft knock before one of the double doors slowly swung opened and his mother walked in.

"You shouldn't be so hard on Clara," she said gently. "She takes after you – mean-spirited, takes orders from no one, constantly wants to be in control."

David sighed. "I'm just trying to do what's best for her… for this family."

His mother shook her head. "You can only plan David, but at the end of the day, it's not entirely up to you what happens," she murmured, taking a seat in one of the leather chairs. The fire could be heard crackling in the background as mother and son stared at each other. "Perhaps you should ask her what she wants."

The sound of a carriage pulling over could be heard and Dave stared at the large window. "This silent-treatment is getting a bit childish, don't you think?" his mother murmured before she rose from her seat and leaving, leaving the door slightly ajar.

When Clarice Oswald stepped out, she rushed to her granddaughter. "Talk to your father – he's in the study - I slapped some much-needed sense into him earlier," she whispered, winking at Clara before disappearing into the hallway.

She took one quick look at the study before straightening her back and marching in, determined to tell her father the truth.

Clara was greeted by the sight of her father pacing around, hands in his pockets. He stopped when he realised his daughter was in the room. Dave cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder," he began.

She nodded. "I'm sorry, too, father," she said meekly.

"Look, I've said it countless times and I will say it again – I just want the best for you, Clara, you're my only child and I'm not getting any younger. All I want is for you to have a happy life," he explained.

Clara resisted the urge to cut in and let him continue. "I know it was wrong of me to do what I did last night, but your fiancé-"

He immediately stopped as soon as he realised the mistake he made.

"Fiancé?!" she growled in anger. "Is that why some of your friends congratulated me last night?!"

Dave pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I meant – it was a slip of the tongue –"

"What next father? Are you going to call John my husband?"

He had made a serious mistake. All hell would break loose. "I told you, I said it by accident!"

Clara shook her head. "I somehow doubt that – you've been hoping I would develop romantic feelings for John from the very beginning and I can assure you that I am not in love with him – yes, I love him but only as a friend."

Dave let out of frustrated sigh as he placed one hand on the desk to balance himself. "Why are you throwing away your future?! You've rejected every single eligible suitor I could find!"

"That's because I wish to marry for love, not to please society! I'm not in love with John, father… I'm in love with Dr Smith."

Dave knew something was very wrong when everything started spinning, he tried to regain his balance, his chest felt as if it was caving in and he was short of breath. He placed a hand on his chest, but it did nothing to soothe the pain.

"Father!" Clara screamed, running to his side, as he crashed to the floor. "Donna! Mr Rentford! Anybody! Help!"

A moment later, Donna came rushing into the room. Her panicked expression morphed into that of horror. "I'll tell Henry to get the Doctor."

Clara didn't a word she had said, in fact, she sat on the floor, trying to wake up her unconscious father with tears streaming down her face. What on earth happened?

* * *

John Smith packed up his equipment after he had assessed Dave's condition. The man had indeed suffered a heart attack, a minor one, thankfully so that meant none of his internal organs were permanently damaged and he could tell Clara of her father's well being without breaking any actual bad news.

"Doctor," Dave managed, his voice hoarse, as he lied in bed, eyes half opened. "Please do not tell Clara of my condition."

John furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry, I can't lie to her – she would want to know of your condition as soon as I walk out the door."

Dave let out a tired sigh.

"Do you have children, Doctor?"

"No."

"Are you married?"

"No."

"I do not think you will understand – Clara is the only child I have – her mother died when she was young and since then, I realised that I couldn't be weak, constantly mourning the death of my wife – I had to be strong for Clara's sake… If I wasn't, we wouldn't be where we are today… please, I will tell her the truth myself… when the time is right."

He was putting John in a very difficult spot. "Mr Oswald, I think you will find that your daughter is and looks much stronger than she seems. Shielding her away from the truth won't do any good – it will only drive her to find it," the Doctor explained as he grabbed his bag and left the room.

He was immediately greeted by Clara who was patiently waiting outside with her grandmother, in the empty hallway.

"How is he? Will he be alright? Did he suffer a stroke? It seemed like a stroke," she began bombarding him with questions.

John licked his lips. "Your father's fine- his memory might be a bit hazy too – it's likely he's been under a lot of stress, so I had advised him to take time off from work."

She merely nodded, about to be in tears once more. Her nan thought it was best to let the two have a private moment as she stood up, thanked the Doctor and entered Dave's bedroom.

The moment the door closed, Clara wrapped her arms around him and began sobbing. John nearly lost his balanced but recovered quickly and led her to the sofa, where she continued crying into his coat.

"Clara," he murmured, chin resting on top of her head. She didn't look up. "Clara," he said as he pulled her face away from his chest with both hands as gently as he could and wiped the tears with his thumbs.

"He suffered a stroke, didn't he?"

John swallowed the lump in his throat. "You will have to get the answer from him… I'm sorry, Clara."

She shook her head and hid her face in the crook on his neck.

Twelve minutes later, her sobbing finally died down.

"I think you should go inside and see him," John murmured. "He's most likely wondering where his daughter is."

"Seeking comfort from her doctor and wetting his shirt with her tears," she said, voice muffled, before looking up. "I apologise for ruining it…"

"Don't worry about it," he whispered before planting a kiss on her head. "Go, see your father," he advised before pulling out a blue handkerchief and handing it to her.

When the door to the master bedroom creaked opened, both Clarice and Dave turned to see Clara standing in the entrance.

"Clara," Dave said softly, reaching out a hand to her.

She immediately ran to his side and grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier," she said, eyes watery.

Dave furrowed his brows at her words. "Yelled? Did you yell at me?"

"… I… Father, what was the last thing you remembered before you passed out?"

"I was about to talk to you about last night and the next thing I knew, I was in my bedroom."

Clara and her grandmother exchanged a look of concern. It would seem that Dave Oswald had lost his memory of the argument that transpired shortly before his stroke.

* * *

It was around midnight by the time John had finished marking his students' papers and called it a night. His day had started out slow and when he had hoped to be occupied by something, he didn't expect to be rushed to the Oswald manor so soon, let alone, discovering that Dave Oswald had suffered more than one stroke since the past year.

Placing the stack of papers away, John rose from his seat and blew out the candles in the study. As he marched halfway up the staircase, he heard loud multiple knocks coming from the front door.

"I need a doctor! Please!" yelled a manly voice.

The Doctor unlocked the door and was greeted by the sight of three burly men. Without warning, one grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out.

John resisted and even punched the man who grabbed him, but the others were faster and began pummelling with punches and kicks.

He tried to fight as best as he could, but it was three against one and once they were done beating him up, one of the men said, "Stay away from the girl."

After he spat at him, the three men left without another word, leaving the Doctor lying on the cold pavement ground, in pain.

John's breath was shallow, and his vision was blurry. He knew he wouldn't survive the cold night if he didn't get inside and so, gritting his teeth as he fought through the pain that shot everywhere in his body, he crawled back into his home, hoping to reach the kitchen but only managed the living room before darkness greeted him.


	10. Chapter 10

_Thank you for your awesome support!_

 _Excited for 12 to receive some TLC? Wait no more!_

* * *

Clara was determined to discover the truth as she knew her father was hiding something. He avoided questions regarding his well-being and it was getting on her nerves. If he wasn't going to tell her, then perhaps she could get information from the Doctor.

Whenever she asked him a question, he simply changes the subject, and her mind came up with new ones. Had he been sick for a while now? If so, how long? How serious is it? Will he live for long? There were so many questions running through her mind and it was driving her mad. Even her nan couldn't get her father to reveal the truth.

Clara's decision was final – she was going to travel to the Doctor's home and get the truth from him.

She marched down the stairs, mindful not to trip before striding to the stables, in search of Mr Rentford. She found him right where she thought he would be, tending one of the horses.

"Mr Rentford," she called.

Henry stopped brushing the horse's hair and turned around, smiling at her. "Yes, Clara."

"Could you take me to the Doctor?" she whispered with pleading eyes.

He simply nodded, setting the brush aside. "Of course, I will get the horses and carriage ready."

* * *

John Foreman smiled fondly at Idris as he watched her run around the barren field. He knew she was upset he hadn't spent as much time with her as he usually does and so he decided to let her run around on her own for the day.

John hadn't been able to stop thinking about Clara, their dance, and that maybe he had competition. As far as he was aware and told, Clara wasn't being sought after by another man, but he couldn't help but feel a bit jealous when he saw her dancing with John Smith.

Maybe it was the way they had looked at each other that caused the green-eyed monster to surface. Regardless, he was determined not to give up easily.

"I see you're up early," a voice commented.

John resisted the urge to roll his eyes and turned around to face his cousin. "You sound happy this morning."

"Is being happy now against the law?" Harold retorted, standing next to his relative as he took in the fresh morning air.

John arched a brow. "You weren't particularly ecstatic for the past few days."

Harold decided to change the subject before his cousin became suspicious of his cheerful mood. His face became serious. "I have some news, concerning the Oswalds."

He immediately gave his full attention. "Is something wrong?"

"Stop looking as if your future wife just got kidnapped or something – it's her father – he suffered a stroke yesterday."

John finally relaxed a bit. "I see, how is Mr Oswald? How's Clara?"

Harold stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Dave's fine – no permanent damage to any of his vital organs but the girl is shaken up – you should visit them."

"I'd rather give them some space for now."

Harold glanced at his cousin. "Trust me, it's going to give a good impression."

John really hated taking orders. "I will visit them when the time is right and today is not it – Clara would surely need time to reflect."

"Come along, Idris," he called out and the horse immediately ran to him.

* * *

Dave Oswald felt restless. He had been bedridden for less than two days and he was already feeling as if he would die if he did nothing for much longer. Surely two days of rest would be sufficient for his body to recover. Yes, he will return to work tomorrow.

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard a soft knock and a moment later, it slowly creaked opened as his mother stepped in.

"How are you feeling today?" she asked, taking a seat by the bed.

"A bit restless, if I'm quite honest," he replied.

The silence was unbearable. There was an elephant in the room and her son refused to address it. Well, she would wait no longer.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

He wasn't in the mood to be questioned, let alone by his own flesh and blood.

Dave sighed. "I… I didn't want anyone to worry – like the doctor said, I've been under a lot of stress-"

"David Oswald," Clarice cut in sharply, "If anyone is heading to their grave, it should be me – I'm your mother for God's sake. The last thing I want to hear is that my son died of a stroke."

He was lost for words. It wasn't as if he had planned any of this to happen. What was he supposed to say?

"Promise me something, David," she murmured, patting her son's hand. "Don't go before me."

"Mother-"

"No!"

He nodded silently in defeat.

"Is this why you've been wanting Clara to get married? So she wouldn't be alone?"

Dave stared at his mother. "I want her to have someone to support her when… well, when the day comes – I was there when Elena passed away, I was there to support Clara… who's going to take care of her when I'm gone? I don't want her to go through the pain alone."

Clarice looked away, she couldn't tell her son that his daughter already has someone who loves. She was damn sure the two were hugging in the hallway yesterday.

"It's why I'm certain the Foreman boy is the right man for her – he lost his mother at a young age, too. He understands."

* * *

Clara had been knocking for the fourth time now and there was still no answer. She turned around to look at Mr Rentford, who was waiting by the carriage, who merely shrugged, just as confused as she was.

She decided to try and twist the doorknob and to her surprise, it wasn't locked. Slowly, she pushed the door and walked inside. "Doctor?" she called, looking into the empty hallway before her eyes caught sight of a pair of long legs in the living room. She immediately dashed to his side.

"Doctor!" she screamed, as she saw him lying on the ground, face down. She immediately lifted his head and let it rest on her lap, letting out a gasp, as she saw the cuts and bruises that decorated his face. He was still breathing which is always a good sign, but she wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious.

"Doctor, can you hear me?"

He didn't respond much aside from groaning. She said his name again and this time, she heard him faintly saying, "Clara."

She never felt so relieved to hear her name.

"Doctor," she whispered, caressing his face gently before she yelled for Mr Rentford.

Seconds later, he rushed inside and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the Doctor. "Good lord! What on earth happened to him?"

Clara didn't hear a single word Henry had said. "Help me carry him to the sofa."

They both lifted him up carefully before setting him down on the sofa, his legs dangling at one end of the armrest.

"Is there anything else I can do, Clara?" Henry asked. The Doctor obviously needed a doctor. "Should I fetch a doctor?"

"Yes, yes, please do that," she murmured, placing a hand on John's cheek. "I will check the kitchen and see if I can find… something to clean his face."

Clara rose from the floor but before she even had the chance to move, she felt a hand grabbing her arm.

"No doctor," John said slowly, eyes half-opened.

"Are you bonkers?" she argued. "You need medical attention!"

"Yes and no," he answered with a hoarse voice. "I'm a doctor, remember?"

Clara and Mr Rentford exchanged looks before John reassured them both. "As far as I'm aware, nothing is broken."

He tried getting up but was immediately told lie down by Clara. "Are you sure you do not need a doctor?"

"Yes, I'm certain."

Clara didn't say another word as she strode into the kitchen and returned minutes later with a bowl of hot water and a cloth.

"I should have some antiseptic in my office, cabinet next to the door – top shelf," John explained.

Mr Rentford immediately left the room to give the two a private moment.

Clara dipped the cloth into the hot water before pressing it gently against his right cheekbone. He winced involuntarily. "You're an idiot."

"Nothing's broken, Clara," he repeated to assure her he was fine, shifting a bit so he could face her properly.

"What happened?" she questioned, cleaning off the dried blood from his face.

John tried to think of an explanation – he remembered the thugs warning him to 'stay away from the girl' which they could only mean Clara but what good would be telling her the truth do? It was bad enough she recently found out her father was sick and now this. "I… I'm not sure."

Before Clara had the chance to tell him to elaborate, Mr Rentford returned empty-handed. "I'm sorry Doctor, but I found the antiseptic bottle and it was empty – I'll be back shortly," he explained running out of the house to the carriage.

They said nothing as Clara continued to clean the right side of his face, one hand holding the cloth while the other caressing his curly silver hair. His eyes were getting heavier by the second and if she didn't stop what she was doing, he might fall asleep.

His eyes shot open when he couldn't feel her touch anymore and the next thing he knew, his head was resting on her lap. "Sorry, I couldn't see the other side of your face properly."

John's face became scarlet red as soon as he realised the current position he was in.

"Clara," he murmured, staring at the woman who was currently cleaning his wounds. "Thank you."

He grabbed the hand which was stroking his hair with both his hands and placed a gentle kiss on the back. To a stranger, it would look as if they were a married couple, more in love than ever before. A loving wife tending to her husband's wounds. That was how Henry Rentford would describe it when returned, both Clara and John unaware of his presence, so he decided to leave it that way, preferring to let them indulge in their private moment a bit longer.

An hour later, John Smith woke in a startle when he heard the sound of a horse neighing. A hand was immediately placed on his cheek. "Sorry, that was Mr Rentford trying to get one of the horses to behave," Clara explained.

"Did I – did I fall asleep?" he asked, blinking several times.

"You did, for almost an hour," she replied. "And I have to leave soon."

John cleared his throat and forced himself to sit up, placing a hand on his burning ribcage before turning around to look at Clara. "Sorry for keeping you occupied."

"Are you sure nothing is broken?"

He chuckled, "Yes, I am absolutely sure – it's most likely just a bruise but thank you for your concern."

She eyed him carefully before deciding to let it go. "Alright, but I will be back tomorrow to check up on you."

"Yes, boss," he grumbled, yet unable to hide his smile.

"And don't get up," she murmured before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

As soon as he heard the door close, John finally lets out a sigh of relief, groaning as he placed a hand back on his left ribcage. It was without a doubt, broken.

He slowly got up with the support of the armrest before he heard a knock coming from the front door. He stood still, wondering if Clara had left something behind but before he could even move, he heard the door unlocking.

"You-hoo! John!" sang a cheerful Scottish voice.

John Smith's eyes widened in panic. If his sister saw him in his current state, all hell would break loose and she would find out everything.

"You know, there is such a thing called being polite and answering the door," Missy commented as she entered the living room. Her grin immediately disappeared. It was replaced with a calm expression. "Care to explain why your face is battered and why," she said, before poking his broken ribcage, causing him to tense. "-your ribcage is broken."

John glared at his sister before she broke eye contact. "Oh, forget about it, you'll spill the beans once I'm done fixing that broken rib of yours."

"I can take care of myself."

Missy's sharp eyes caught sight of the bowl of water on the floor. It had a red tint. "Would you like me to explain what happened?"

He opened his mouth, but she immediately cut him. "You got beaten up, obviously, why – you'll tell me and then Miss Oswald found you in your current state, cleaned your wounds, gave you some tender, loving care – probably doesn't know you have a broken bone or two and she left, I'm guessing, twenty minutes ago."

His sister was good. Too good.

"How did you know Clara was here?" the Doctor asked, impressed.

Missy merely smiled at him. "John, I'm your sister – I know everything and," she said, pulling out a compact mirror before pointing it at his right cheek which had a lipstick mark. "-that too which can only come from one woman."

He said nothing as he sank back down on the sofa.

"Right, take off your shirt," she instructed, causing her brother to blush. "I'll be back with bandages and what not."

"I told you, Missy – I can take care of myself."

If he was completely honest, John would rather just die as he knew Missy wouldn't be gentle at all and that was when she will most likely interrogate him.

His sister rolled her eyes. "Look, I've seen you naked since the day you were born so shut up, man up and pray that I don't decide to bleach my eyes after this," she explained with a sarcastic smile.


	11. Chapter 11

_Hello! Thank you very much for your continued support!_

 _I hope everyone will have a pleasant time reading this chapter as many of you will get what you've been waiting for. Cheers!_

* * *

"Not so tight!" John growled as Missy wrapped the bandage around his upper torso. "You're going to make it worse."

Missy merely pursed her lips as she wrapped it securely. "Stop complaining, will you! First, you told me it was too loose and now you're saying it's too tight – make up your mind."

He decided to let it go rather than arguing with her, knowing well she would always win. Once he was bandaged up, his sister handed him a glass water.

"Thank you," he muttered before finishing the drink in one go. "I suppose this is the part where I tell you what happened."

"Would you look at that, my baby brother is finally using his brain."

John glared at Missy before he leaned back against the backrest of the sofa, shutting his eyes. "Before I tell you anything, you have to promise not to interfere."

"Now, you know I can't do that."

"Promise me."

"I get to find the bastards who assaulted you."

"You can't hurt anyone."

"Except said bastards, at least."

John stared at his sister.

"You can't expect me to sit around and do nothing," she retorted.

"Promise me you won't hurt anyone."

Missy gave her brother a hard stare before she sighed in defeat. "Fine – continue."

"I remember calling it a night when somebody outside started screaming for help, so I unlocked the door and the next thing I knew, they were dragging me outside – I punched one of them and that was when they fought back, how I ended up like this," John explained, pointing a finger at his face. "I passed out in here and that was how Clara found me."

His sister listened intently, taking a second to process his story before speaking, "Did they say anything?"

"Told me to stay away from her," John murmured.

Missy tapped a finger on the armrest. "Who do you think sent those men?"

John chose his words carefully. He didn't think Clara's father would be capable of committing such a thing, considering the conversation they had the previous day. He didn't sound hostile or defensive. "I honestly have no idea and no, I doubt her father is the culprit."

"What makes you say that? He could have seen you as a threat to his daughter's future."

"Mr Oswald suffered a stroke yesterday and I was called in."

Missy crossed her legs. It would seem she would need to do some digging of her own. "John Foreman?"

Her brother huffed. "He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Looks can be deceiving – what was your impression of him?"

"Rich, young, loves his pet horse, intelligent, and is obviously smitten with Clara."

Missy grimaced. She would have to start from the bottom and work her way up, starting with the thugs which shouldn't take much of her time. The perks that come with being a criminal consultant.

"Well, while I'm busy being me, why don't you rest, yes?" she said, rising. "Can you walk up the stairs?"

"I'm not an invalid, Missy," John growled in annoyance.

"Says the man who's struggling to get up from the sofa," she commented before helping her brother. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Stop it – you're beginning to sound like mum."

If her brother wasn't in the state he was in, she would have happily hit his head. "I'm your sister, your parents' daughter -of course I sound like mum, you numpty."

Despite having a frown on his face, John Smith was enjoying the banter, and grateful that his sister was with him, taking care of him, not that he would ever admit it to her.

* * *

"So how did the visit go?" Donna asked excitedly the moment Mr Rentford set foot into the kitchen. She would always ask him to elaborate. As a matter of fact, members of the household would usually gather around to listen and this time, it was no exception.

"It went well, as usual – Clara and Dr Smith were chatting like they always do," Henry said as calmly as he could as he didn't want to give away anything. He would have to confide to Donna in private if it came to that.

Donna looked at him suspiciously. "You hiding something, Rentford – I can smell it from a mile away."

He looked around the room where he was sure almost all household members were gathered. "Really, they were just chatting as usual – think I saw Clara holding his hand."

Luckily, that information alone was enough to satisfy everyone's gossip need. The crowd eventually dispersed, and Henry headed placed his hat on the kitchen counter before taking a seat.

Donna crossed her arms and gave him a hard stare. "Alright, tell me what's really going on – I saw the look on Clara's face. It was blank – emotionless – she's hiding something."

"What I am about to tell you can only be between us."

"Oi! You've known me for years – I don't just start spilling secrets out like some bottle of wine!"

Henry cleared his throat before he began telling Donna of how Clara found Dr Smith unconscious in his home, battered to how she cared for him. It made Donna speechless until he finished his story.

"I… I never imagined something so horrible could happen – Medicine Boy will be fine, right?" she said worriedly.

Her friend nodded his head. "His injuries weren't life-threatening."

"Good," she sighed in relief.

"Tell me how he kissed her hand again – it sounded so romantic," Donna suddenly said. "I just can't get enough of it."

Henry gave her a skeptical look before he recounted the tender moment between Clara and John.

Donna sighed dreamily once the anecdote was over. "Wish Shawn was as romantic as the Doctor."

"I'm right here, you know!" Shawn yelled from the pantry.

"I'm well aware of that!" Donna yelled back before continuing her conversation with Mr Rentford. "I'm guessing Clara is going to pay a trip to Medicine Boy, tomorrow?"

Henry finished his drink. "That was what she told me."

"I'll bake something for the poor doctor."

* * *

Clara stood in front of the master bedroom door, contemplating whether she should talk to her father or allow him to rest. She wanted to be sure he was fine but then what? She had nothing to say – well, she had plenty to say but she couldn't just tell him the truth while he was still recovering.

Before she had the chance to make up her mind, the door was pulled opened and her grandmother stepped out.

"Oh, you're back – Donna told me you were out needing some 'fresh air'?" Clarice inquired suggestively, giving her granddaughter a smile.

Clara's face immediately drained of colour. "I didn't – Nothing… I…" she stammered.

"Clara, it's alright, she really tried her best at lying but she spilled the beans before I even had the chance to press on."

She pursed her lips. "Yes, I went out to see the Doctor in hopes of finding out more about father's condition."

Clarice closed the door behind her immediately before they began walking. "What did he say?"

"I didn't get the chance to ask since I found the Doctor unconscious in his own home."

Her eyes widened in shock. "What?"

Clara began telling her grandmother her account of the incident. By the time she was done, she was close to tears.

"I… I don't think father would do such a thing – I can't imagine it," she whispered in a raspy voice.

Clarice patted her hand. "No, I don't believe your father is capable of such a cowardly and disgusting act – please tell Dr Smith I wish him a speedy recovery when you see him again."

"How is father, by the way – is he asleep?" Clara asked, changing the subject.

"He is now – he insisted on going to work tomorrow and I told him no such thing was happening," the elderly woman muttered. "Which brings me to my next point – when you talk to your father, please be calm."

Her granddaughter stared at her with a confused expression etched on her face. "What do you mean, nan?"

"He told me he wants you to marry the Foreman boy and I know, you love Dr Smith, but I'm just trying to help you prepare yourself when he talks to you."

Clara's cheeks began to redden at the mention of her love for John Smith. Her grandmother could see it clearly. She wished her father could do the same.

* * *

The very next morning, after sunrise, Clara sneaked out of the mansion and headed her way to the Doctor's residence. She looked down at the freshly baked pie Donna had made. She was sure he was going to love it. After all, everyone loves Donna's famous pear and apricot pie.

Her thoughts then wandered to the Doctor. Did he sleep well last night? Has he had breakfast yet? Did he even eat at all? Perhaps she shouldn't have left him so quickly.

Clara was snapped out of her thoughts when the carriage came to a halt and a moment later, the door was swung open. Carefully, she stepped out, making sure not to drop the decadent pastry.

"Would you like me to help you with that, Clara?" Mr Rentford asked as they approached the door.

"It's fine but I would appreciate it if you could help me open the door."

"With pleasure," he replied and walked past her.

Before Henry had the chance of grabbing the doorknob, it was pulled opened and he was greeted by the sight of a woman. A scary looking woman if he had to describe her.

She smiled at him before her eyes darted at Clara. "Clara, what a pleasant surprise!"

"Oh, hello, Missy," she said. "I'm… here to see the Doctor."

Her smile widened. "Please, please come in – John will be pleased to know you are here and I see you've brought a delicious looking pie!"

"I will be waiting outside," Mr Rentford said politely to Clara, not wanting to intrude.

Clara handed the pie to Missy and stepped inside. "How is the Doctor?"

"Grumpy, won't admit he likes the breakfast I cooked for him and kept complaining I'm treating him like a sick child – to be completely honest, he is acting like one," Missy explained as she disappeared into the kitchen. "You're more than welcome to see him – up the stairs and turn right."

"I'll be here in the kitchen tasting this delicious looking pie if you need me."

"Thank you," Clara replied before she quietly climbed up the stairs in search of the Doctor's bedroom.

"What is it this time, Missy?" John growled as he looked up from the book he was reading. His expression immediately changed. "C-Clara?"

John was currently in bed, shirtless, giving a clear view of the bandage that was wrapped around his upper torso. The sight caused Clara to blush – in fact, she could even feel the heat rising on her cheeks.

John tossed the book aside before he covered his body with the blanket. "Sorry," he murmured as she entered the bedroom. His eyes were everywhere except on her.

"An apology is unnecessary," Clara replied, amused at how shy the Doctor was being. Her expression then became serious. "But you told me nothing was broken yesterday, so why the bandage?"

"Ah," John started, scratching the back of his head. "I wasn't entirely sure if my ribs were broken."

"Doctor Idiot," she muttered before sitting on the edge of the bed.

John chuckled. "I've learned my lesson about lying if that is what you're wondering – Missy wasn't what I would call gentle."

"Good to know," she said, slowly moving her hand towards his.

"You find my pain amusing, then?" he replied, grabbing her hand and holding it gently.

Clara beamed. "I see you are fine now – bantering and what not,"

"This isn't banter – I am totally against bantering."

"Says the Doctor who's bantering," she giggled, earning a mocking glare from him. "Anyway, I didn't come empty handed – Donna baked you a pie."

"You mean the friend who looks at me as if I'm from another planet?"

"And the one who warned you not to do anything funny."

He placed a swift kiss on her hand. "Too bad she isn't here," he said huskily.

Clara leaned in, placing a hand on his cheek, caressing the cut with her thumb. The wound wasn't as bad as she remembered. They stared at each other longingly, drinking in the sight of one another.

"Too bad, indeed," she whispered before she captured his lips in a gentle kiss.

John hadn't kissed a woman in a very long time, so nobody could blame him for being as stiff as a stick at first, but eventually, he closed his eyes and responded, savouring the taste of her lips as he cupped her face gently with both hands. He let out a moan of approval when Clara wrapped her arms around his neck, softly scratching the back of his head. He couldn't deny or fight it anymore – he was in love with Clara Oswald.


	12. Chapter 12

_Hello! I'm sorry it took me a while to update but I have been busy with uni and haven't had much time to work on the latest chapter until now. Thank you for your patience and support and enjoy! :)_

* * *

 **One Week Later**

Harold Saxon walked down the stairs briskly as he made his way into the dining room. "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully, taking his seat opposite of where John Foreman sat.

John looked up from the newspaper he was reading and arched a brow. "I still have no idea why you are so happy these days – it's scaring me – are you terminally ill or is father coming?"

Instead of feeling offended, Harold let out a laugh. "Don't be silly, cousin dearest," he replied, reaching for an apple. "So, what's your plan with the Oswald girl – it's been more than a week, perhaps it's a good idea to visit her."

The young man pursed his lips and frowned. "Why are you so keen on me spending time with her?"

"Because that's why we are here in the first place – you're trying to swoon her," Harold replied, taking a bite of the apple.

"Her father recently had a heart attack and you expect me to simply pretend as if nothing happened – we've had this conversation before," John said in a sharp tone.

If there was one thing he hated more than having people stick their noses into his personal business, it's being told what to do.

His cousin merely smirked.

"What are you up to – you have that look you always have when things are going your way."

Harold took another bite of his apple. "I suppose it's inevitable anyway so what the hell – when Mr Oswald and I met, we agreed that you and his daughter are to wed."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said – you and the girl are going to get married," he repeated, smiling but it disappeared when he saw his cousin frowning. "You don't seem happy – I thought-"

"Did she agree to marry me or is this something you and Mr Oswald agreed upon without our knowledge?"

"I don't understand what you are so upset about – don't you want the girl?"

John stood up, eyes filled with rage. "I love Clara Oswald – I've loved her since the day we met but that doesn't give anybody the right to dictate my or her future!"

The man merely huffed. "Stop being so dramatic – you get what you want, you should be ecstatic."

"But does Clara know about this?"

"It's not our problem-"

"What else did you do?" John demanded.

Harold decided to play dumb, thinking it was better to not mention his plan of sending a warning to the competition, last week. "I don't know what you are on about, cousin – stop being irrational."

The young man shook his head. "No, I've known you long enough that you can only be this confident when you think you've secured everything."

Harold rolled his eyes. "I promise you I didn't do anything."

John glared at his cousin before he stormed off, knowing well he wouldn't get the truth from him. Perhaps spending time with Idris would calm his mind. More importantly, he needed to speak to Clara.

* * *

"And be sure to get enough sleep – Missy told me you've been locked up in your office all day long yesterday instead of resting – it's only been a little over a week, your body needs to heal properly," Clara said as she entwined her fingers with John, beaming.

They were seated outside in the back garden, deciding to take advantage of the beautiful weather.

The man merely growled. "You're bossing me around and I need to move instead of just lying in bed – it's boring."

"You're making Missy's point valid, you daft man."

John rolled his eyes. "Which one?"

Clara giggled when he kissed her knuckles. "The one about being childish."

"You believe her?"

"Like I said, you're proving her point," she murmured before clasping his hand once more, weaving their fingers.

John stared at their entwined hands and pondered. Is this what she truly wanted? Does he deserve her? After all, he was nothing more than a physician. He couldn't offer her immense wealth or live a life of luxury. Most importantly, would she be happy with an old man like him?

"Clara," he said gently, still staring down.

She merely hummed, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Is this what you want?" he asked.

She pulled away and stared him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

John let out a sigh. "What I am trying to say is, are you happy – do you deserve an old man like me – do I deserve someone who's impossible like you- I can't give you the life you have now-"

She placed a finger to his lips. "If I wasn't sure what I wanted, I wouldn't have kissed you, tended your wounds and, I certainly wouldn't have told my father I was… am in love with you."

John's eyes widened in surprise and shock. "Clara -"

"If you love me in any way…"

"I do," he whispered, staring at her intently. "Oh, Clara, my Clara."

He kissed her forehead and allowed her to embrace him as he wrapped one arm around her.

"And for the record, you are not an old man."

John chuckled. "Have you seen me?"

Clara looked up and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Those scars make you look younger."

She rested her head against his shoulder once more, not uttering a single word, enjoying each other's company until she was reminded the reason why she was here, to begin with.

"Doctor," she murmured.

"I think formality is no longer necessary – John would suffice."

She pulled away and stared at him seriously. "I've been thinking about this for the past few days and… I think it's time I tell my childhood friend the truth."

"Have you talked to your father about this – does he know I'm well, unofficially courting you?"

Clara shook her head. "I told father that I love you the day he suffered a heart attack, but he seems to have no memory of it and I do not wish to give false hope to John Foreman. I do not want to sneak away just to spend time with you, any longer."

"Whenever I try telling him the truth, father seems to always get into the subject of my courtship with John," she continued, sighing frustratingly.

The Doctor pondered for a moment before he spoke softly. "What if I speak to your father?"

Clara's eyes widened in shock and surprise. She couldn't believe her ears. "I haven't thought about it before – I'm not sure how he will react."

John beamed, taking her hand and kissing it. "Just leave that to me," he murmured, earning a worried look. "Trust me, I'm the Doctor."

At that moment, she realised, she wasn't fighting alone anymore.

Before John could react, Clara wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

* * *

"I'm surprised to see you up and about as if nothing happened in the past week, Dave," Harold commented as both men took their seats opposite each other.

Dave nodded. "Well, the world has to keep moving forward – the longer I am absent, the more catching up I have to do."

"So, what brings us here?" he asked, despite knowing the answer. He knew Dave would finally give John his permission to ask for Clara's hand in marriage.

"It concerns my daughter and your cousin," he answered casually, browsing through the menu.

Harold couldn't hide the smile on his face. "Ah, the two lovebirds."

"Yes," Dave said as he set the menu aside. "I haven't spoken to Clara yet, but I believe now is the right time for John to propose to her – I will be honest, Harold – I have no idea how much longer I will live, and I'm concerned that Clara-" he explained before he abruptly stopped speaking, feeling a lump in his throat. "I have no intention of leaving her alone."

Harold merely nodded, giving his best sympathetic look. "I understand, but you shouldn't brood too much, Dave – it's bad for one's health."

The older man sighed. "I want John to propose to Clara, but I will talk to her beforehand."

"Very well, I will prepare everything on my side – I'm sure my cousin is going to be thrilled at marrying his childhood friend."

* * *

The moment Clara Oswald stepped out of the carriage, she was greeted by the sight of Idris standing in front of one of the large windows, peering inside, looking for her master.

Oh God. Why did he have to be here now? She already felt guilty for giving him hope and now she was going to break his heart into pieces. She never felt so guilty and unprepared in her life. However, she straightened her back and strode into the mansion.

"Clara!" John exclaimed happily as he rose from the sofa, both hands fiddling with his hat. He then grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I hope you are well."

"And I hope you are too – what brings you here?" she said, granting him a small smile.

He looked away shyly before he found the courage to speak. "I was wondering if I could speak to you, in private?" he whispered, feeling as if somebody was watching him. "There are some things I wish to discuss with you, but not here."

Clara furrowed her brows. What did he mean by that?

"Yes, of course – I have something to tell you, as well."

"Excellent! Perhaps I could take you to that bookshop I mentioned before?" he asked, looking behind Clara, as he caught dozens of staff members eavesdropping, causing him to chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing!" he answered, clearing his throat when all of them ran off in a hurry.

Clara turned around and saw nothing but an empty hallway. "Are you sure you didn't see something that amused you?"

"I'm certain, my impossible girl."

The nickname only caused another wave of guilt to wash over her. She wasn't looking forward to telling him the truth, but she needed to.

"Shall we go there now, or would you prefer to-"

"Now is fine."

John took her hand and kissed it. "I shall meet you there, then – tellMr Rentford to follow my lead."

* * *

"I'm going to be gone for a few hours," Missy announced after she had helped her brother to bed.

"You're not -"

"Don't be silly, lover boy – I still have a business to run, you know – it's not like you pay me for taking care of you."

John glared at his sister before he decided to let it go. "Fine, just remember the promise."

Missy rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, I'm a woman of my word – now just stay in bed and think about your future with your future wife, and possibly future children in it, yeah – someone's got to continue the Smith lineage."

"Please, just leave," he said embarrassedly, face reddening.

His sister grinned before shutting the door behind her. Her smile instantly faded as she climbed down the stairs and stepped out of the house.

Missy had been casually walking down the long road, blending in with people for about ten minutes before a carriage stopped next to her. The driver tipped his hat.

"Ma'am," he greeted.

She stepped into the carriage and sat opposite her assistant. "Any news?"

Seb smiled as he pulled out a list and handed it to her. It contained the names of the assailants and their addresses. "I thought it was going to be a difficult find but as it turns out, we had a witness who knew one of the assailants – I got the name and after that, it was just a matter of tracking them down."

"Well done," she uttered, eyes scanning the list. "The last one doesn't have an address."

"He doesn't – barely makes enough to survive and spends most of it on alcohol and prostitutes, but word has it he frequents a pub in Whitechapel."

Missy handed the list back to Seb. "Grab them. All of them. Tonight."

Her assistant nodded. "Yes, Ma'am," he said before knocking the wall twice. The carriage stopped after a moment. Seb then stepped out.

"And Seb," Missy uttered. "Be sure to bring some extra muscle – from what I understand, these men aren't scarecrows."

The man merely nodded before he took his leave.

Missy leaned back against the seat as the carriage started moving forward once more. She was going to get the name of the person who hurt her brother. By hook or by crook.


	13. Chapter 13

_Hello! Thank you for your support and I hope you're ready for a bit of drama! ;)_

 _Also, viewer discretion is advised - this chapter has some violent scenes._

* * *

"Miss Oswald," John said playfully as he tipped his hat before offering a hand to help her out of the carriage.

"Thank you," she said, trying her best to smile.

He studied her intently and said, "Is everything alright, Clara?"

She forced a smile. "Yes, of course."

"Are you sure – I wouldn't mind if we postpone this and I know I should have informed you earlier-" the man explained, as he held the door opened for her.

"John," she said gently. "It's nothing to be worried about."

"Ah, sir, welcome back!" said a short and plump man from behind the counter. "I see you have brought a male companion."

Clara's eyes widened at the comment and John immediately let out a nervous laugh. "You will have to forgive Strax – he sometimes has issues identifying people, isn't that right, Strax?"

"I'm terribly sorry then, sir – let me start again – I see you've brought a female companion – may I take your coat?"

Clara and John exchanged looks. "I'm not wearing one."

"Right," John cut in. "I think I will just show Clara around."

"Very well, sir," Strax replied as the two disappeared behind several bookshelves.

"I'm so sorry about that – Strax can be an oddball at times but believe me when I say he means well."

This time, gave him a genuine smile. "He seems… nice."

"He is, once you set aside his… peculiar behaviour – anyway," John said as he guided them both to the novel section. "I remember you being an avid fan of Jane Austen so here we are."

The section he had taken her to was had a small bookshelf nestled in the corner and that was where the Jane Austen novels were stacked neatly. Next to the bookshelf was a glass case containing the signed, first edition of Pride and Prejudice.

The young man couldn't help but grin when he saw the look on Clara's face.

She approached the glass case slowly and stared at it in pure amazement. "How on earth did you find this bookshop?"

He merely gave her a toothy grin before she playfully punched his arm. "Oi, that's not fair."

John held up his arms in surrender. "I actually came across this bookshop about seven years ago, while escaping from a dinner date that had gone horribly wrong."

Clara arched a brow. It was certainly amusing to imagine him running away from such a predicament. "I find it hard to believe someone like you could end up doing that."

"The woman was insane, so I paid for dinner, made my daring escape and while trying to look for a place to hide, the owner, Madame Vastra, was kind enough to let me seek refuge in her bookshop."

She giggled at his anecdote. "Who would have thought you could find a bookshop by jilting dinner."

"Who would have thought, indeed," he murmured as he stepped a bit closer. "Look, Clara, your love for Jane Austen isn't the only reason I've brought you here," he explained as his features became serious.

"Why then?"

John turned away and started pacing. "I had a chat with my cousin this morning and he has been acting suspicious for the past week – did your father tell you anything important, by any chance?"

Clara furrowed her brows, feeling confused. "No, aside from him insisting he needed to return to work, everything was normal," she answered, preferring to leave out the part where her father had asked her to meet up with John.

"I see," he murmured, still pacing around the small space. "I'm not sure what my cousin is up to but he's up to something."

"What do you mean?"

He stopped and looked at her. "I've known my cousin long enough to know that he will do anything to secure his interests – are you sure he didn't say anything to you or to your father?"

Clara approached him and placed a hand on his arm. "John, what are you trying to say?"

"I don't know, it could be nothing for all I care but it could be something – the point is, I do not want anybody to dictate your or my future."

That was when Clara remembered the reason she agreed to meet John in the first place. "Speaking of the future, there is something I must tell you," she said, voice almost breaking.

She took a deep breath and kept repeating in her mind what she wanted to say but every time she opened her mouth, no words came out.

"Clara, are you truly alright – you look pale," he said gently, placing both hands on her arms.

"No!" she snapped, breaking free from the embrace. Her eyes became watery. "Stop, stop this."

How could see break the truth to him when he was nothing but a gentleman to her. He truly deserves better.

John stepped back to give her some space.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, John."

Before he had a chance to console her, she dashed away, running out of the bookshop and instructingMr Rentford to take her home immediately.

* * *

Missy surveyed the location she had chosen. It was perfect. There were barely any windows and it could be used to cover things up quickly and easily.

"Should have used this meat factory more often," she murmured, pushing a dead pig that was hanging by a hook, with her umbrella.

A moment later, she heard the commotion coming from the back entrance and surely enough, three men with their heads covered with a black cloth were pushed into the centre of the room.

"Let me go, you bloody bastards!" one of them screamed as he struggled but he was held down by two men.

"Good job, Seb," Missy uttered as her assistant leaned against a desk in the far corner of the room, expecting things to get messy.

He nodded. "The pleasure is mine."

The woman nodded to her henchmen and they tore the black cloths away, revealing the faces of the assailants. They were temporarily blind by the sudden burst of light and took a few moments to adjust to their surroundings.

Missy smiled at all three and walked to the nearest wall and rested the umbrella there. "I hope the trip didn't faze you too much."

"Well, sweetheart, if that means spending time with you, then of course not," the largest man said, whistling as he scanned her from head to toe.

She gave him a sarcastic smile. "Joseph Parker, is it?"

"That's right, love."

She then focused her attention on the man to the right. "And you must be Andrew McGinty, so that must make him James Horsham."

"If you wanted a bit of playtime, darling, all you had to do was ask," James said, grinning wolfishly. "I don't usually go for older women, but beggars can't be choosers."

"Would have saved me a couple pounds from last night," Andrew chided, and all three men laughed.

Missy stopped pacing about and walked behind them. "You see boys, I've been told that you have been naughty boys – what did you do about one week ago?"

She signalled two other henchmen to follow her as she walked around.

Joseph, James, and Andrew exchanged looks before their leader decided to answer. "We were having drinks at a pub."

"Come on, don't be shy – you can tell me the truth – you won't receive any presents if you're on the naughty list."

Missy grabbed the end of the meat hooker chain and instructed her men to toss it over the scaffold.

"What's it to you?" Andrew asked when she finally came around.

She shrugged. "Just curious."

"Yeah, we beat some up some doctor."

Her eyes lit up. "Finally! We're getting somewhere! And why did you beat him up?"

This time, the men were completely silent.

"We got paid to beat him up-"

"Shut up, Andrew!" Joseph snapped.

Missy blew out air through her lips. "Why did you beat him up?" she repeated.

"I can tell you if you suck my-" Joseph didn't the chance to finish his sentence as Missy kicked him square in the face, and a loud cracking sound echoed, causing James and Andrew to flinch. He would have fallen to the ground if he still wasn't being held down by her henchmen.

Instead of screaming and crying in pain, the burly man laughed. "I like it when a woman plays rough."

"Alright, let's try this again, you were paid to beat him up – who paid you? Andrew, would you like to be a good student and answer the question?"

The man looked conflicted as he kept glancing at Missy and Joseph. "Don't know."

"James?" she inquired, giving him a chance to spare himself.

The young man smirked. "Do I get you in my bed in return?"

Missy let out a mocking sigh before she walked behind them again. "Last chance, Joseph."

He merely laughed. "My offer still stands – suck my – AAAAAAHHHHHH," he screamed when a large meat hook was stabbed in his left shoulder. He was then hoisted up into the air. Blood spattered everywhere and even sprayed onto James and Andrew.

They stared in horror as their friend was hanging in the air, screaming in pain.

Joseph tried to remain as still as possible so that his suffering would lessen.

"Give me the name."

She received no answer, so she decided to gently push him forward, earning another scream.

"Name."

For the second time he refused to answer, Missy twirled him around, smiling as she did so. The screams were like music to her ears and she was willing to do this for however long it took. Finally, she stopped and told her men to drop the hook.

Joseph fell to the floor, crying in pain.

"Who would like to go next?"

At this point, the two men were shivering in fear. They were too horrified and shocked to respond so she decided to ask the question one more time.

"The name of the man who hired you, please."

"H-Harold… S-Saxon," James said, shivering violently. He dreaded to think of the confessions he'll let out if he was given the same treatment as Joseph.

"Is this true, Andrew?"

He merely nodded, fearing that if he spoke, he would get stabbed with a hook.

Missy grinned. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Both shook their heads.

"Once I walk out of this room, I never ever want to see your ugly mugs again – go to America, another planet, for all I care but if I see even a hair of you, I will be more than happy to take you here again."

She grabbed her umbrella and headed for the exit.

"Do what you wish to them, but don't kill them – just dump them somewhere outside of London."

* * *

It had been exactly five days. Five days since Clara Oswald made a fool of herself. She clearly wasn't brave enough. For the past three days, she had been locked up in her room. She felt guilty for the way she treated John but any attempts by him to see her were rejected. He had even written her a letter, apologising.

What on earth is he apologising for? She should be the one seeking forgiveness, not him.

To add more conflict, today would be the day John Smith would meet her father. He would be here any moment and she felt anxious.

A knock coming from the door startled her and a moment later, her grandmother entered the room. "Dr Smith is here."

That was all Clara needed to hear before she raced out of her room and down the stairs. The moment John stepped inside, she embraced him tightly.

His body tensed. "Clara," he whispered. "My ribs."

"Sorry," she murmured and pulled away.

"Don't be."

"What do you mean Dr Smith is here?" they heard Dave say as he slowly climbed down the stairs. "Ah, Dr Smith, what brings you here - I don't recall requiring your service."

John and Clara glanced at one another. "This is a different matter," he answered.

Dave gave him a hard stare before he nodded. "Very well, we can discuss this in my study."

"So, what is this all about?" he asked, shutting the door, once Clara and John were in.

"Mr Oswald, the reason I came here is that," John said, waiting for Clara's approval as she nodded. "I wish to marry your daughter."

There was nothing but absolute silence in the room. Hearing a pin drop would be an understatement.

"I beg your pardon?"

"John and I wish to marry," Clara stated, as she wrapped her arm around John's and held his hand.

Dave shook his head. "Is this… is this some sort of prank?"

"Mr Oswald, I'm in love with your daughter, and I meant it when I said I would like to make an honest woman out of her."

Dave slumped down on the leather chair, his brain processing what he had heard.

"Please, father, you've been eager for me to get married and I wish to marry John."

He placed a hand to his mouth, staring at the fireplace before he rose and said, "No, I will not allow this – this man is twenty years your senior!"

Clara tried her best to remain calm.

"Why can't you just respect my wishes for once – John Foreman is a good man – he will take good care of you-"

"Dr Smith is also a good man!" she snapped. "What's wrong if I decide to be his wife?!"

"Clara," John whispered, trying to get her to calm down. "Mr Oswald, if you could just-"

Dave shook his head. "I will not have it! You will marry John Foreman and that is final – I just want what is best for you, Clara, please, I'm old and dying – if you love me, you will marry him."

An ultimatum.

She froze. She would have to choose between her father and John. Without another word, she raced out of the study, tears wetting her cheeks.

"Clara!" John yelled, racing after her but stopping at the corridor.

"Get out. I never wish to see you set foot in this house again," Dave uttered.

* * *

The very next morning, at exactly sunrise, Clara Oswald left the Oswald mansion quietly, without anyone's knowledge, not even Mr Rentford knew.

The household was in a state of panic when nobody was able to find her.

"Clara!" Dave yelled as he ran all over the estate looking for her.

Clarice stared at her son from inside the house before she straightened her shoulders. If only her son would listen.

She knew exactly where her granddaughter was headed, and somebody would have to bring her back. She searched for Mr Rentford and found him outside the estate gates.

"Mr Rentford," she called.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered.

"I want you to seek Dr Smith – I know where Clara is going," she explained. "I'm certain she's travelling to Blackpool. Tell him to run after her – he's the only one who can make her see sense."

"Lethbridge Cemetery – that is where she will likely go to."

Henry nodded before he raced off to the carriage.

"And hurry! She might still be at the station!"


	14. Chapter 14

_"For either way you choose you cannot win" - Phantom of the Opera, Final Lair, The Phantom of the Opera_

* * *

John Smith ran as fast as he could into Euston station. Just less than twenty minutes ago, he felt like the most miserable man in the entire universe, staring at his breakfast and barely touching it until Mr Rentford came knocking at his door telling him that Clara was running away.

He didn't think much after that aside from agreeing to travel to the station.

"Doctor, if she is gone, then I hope you will find her at Lethbridge Cemetery – Mrs Oswald told me that is likely where Clara will be once she is in Blackpool," Henry explained as he separated ways, searching the other side of the station.

So many thoughts were running through his mind. Did she plan on returning? If so, when? If not, what will she do? He couldn't really blame her for acting on her impulse, he was just as irrational back when he was younger.

The station was crowded so he had no choice but to start shoving his way in. As his eyes were scanning over the crowd, he heard a whistle being blown and turned around. At that moment, he finally spotted Clara. She was seated next to the window of the train that was slowly going into motion.

"Clara!" he yelled before running after the train.

"Clara!" he yelled once more but his voice was drowned by the loud steam engines. Eventually, the train started moving faster and John was forced to watch helplessly. He placed a hand on his aching ribs, hissing in pain.

"You do realise you looked like a penguin with its arse on fire, running like that, right?" a young woman commented as she stared at him curiously.

John sighed. "I think it's obvious I'm not very athletic."

"So, you must have made your wife very cross to have her ignore you like that."

"She's not my wife."

"Future wife?"

The Doctor gave her a solemn look. "At this point, I'm not sure if that's even a possibility."

"Wow, what could you have said or done to make her that cross?" the young woman joked, but her smile vanished when she saw the sad look on his face. "Sorry, if it helps, there's a train to Manchester that stops at Birmingham - you can switch trains to get to Blackpool from there – I'm taking the same train, so I could probably help you."

John debated whether he should just take the train with the girl or wait for an hour for the next available service to Blackpool. "Thank you, but I think I'll just wait."

"You sure about that – you'll be wasting an hour, a whole hour, waiting."

She had a good point.

"Fine."

Her face lit up. "I'm Bill Potts, by the way," she said, extending her hand.

"John Smith," he replied, shaking her hand.

"Really – you sure you want to go with that – last chance to change it."

John arched a brow. "Yes, I prefer my real name."

"Alright, John Smith, you better get your ticket, quick – train leaves in twelve minutes," Bill explained.

* * *

"I don't understand, Idris," John murmured as he spoke to his horse. "I'm sure I didn't say anything rude – she became so upset out of the blue."

Idris neighed, nuzzling her face against his hand.

"Maybe I shouldn't have spooked her like that, talking about our future," he sighed and fed the horse a carrot. "I just wish she'd let me see her or at least answer my letter."

Suddenly, the door to the stables burst opened and Harold Saxon strode in. "Your 'impossible girl' is missing."

"What?"

"You heard what I said," Harold answered, annoyed that his plan was going south. He had concocted a plan for John to propose to Clara this very week. It would seem he would have to come up with a new one.

"Where was she last seen?" John questioned as he saddled up Idris.

"At her mansion, of course," his cousin retorted. "Good, good, go and look for her."

John growled. "I'm not doing this to impress anyone, cousin – I'm doing this because she could be in danger or hurt herself."

"Whatever," Harold said. "Just do what you must."

Once John got on Idris, she started moving and snorted air out of her nostrils when passing by Harold.

"I love you too, Idris," he said sarcastically.

When John arrived at the Oswald mansion, he could see people running out and about, but he had guessed they've made some sort of progress, judging by the absence of the police.

He got off and was immediately greeted by Clara's grandmother.

"Mr Foreman, I'm terribly sorry you came all the way here for nothing," she said gently.

He shook his head. "It's fine, have you found Clara – I came here as soon as I received the news."

"No, but I've called off the search – she's not missing – she's on her way to Blackpool."

"Then I must-"

Clarice placed a hand on his arm. "I've already sent someone, please, do not trouble yourself and come inside – you came here for nothing so the least I could do is make you tea. Come, young man."

John reluctantly followed her.

"And thank you, Mr Foreman, for your concern."

"Clara is my childhood friend – I should at the very least be concerned."

* * *

Bill Potts couldn't help but stare at the man who was seated opposite of her. He had been fiddling with his hat for the past ten minutes and hadn't spoken a single word since they boarded the train. It would seem he was in a world of his own and so, she decided to start a conversation.

"Have you ever visited Blackpool before?"

John snapped out of his thoughts and blinked. "What?"

"Blackpool – you ever been there?"

He cleared his throat and set his hat on the empty seat next to him. "Um, no, I've never seen Blackpool before."

"So how are you going to find your fiancée?" Bill asked curiously.

The Doctor stared out the window. "Clara's grandmother told me where she will be."

Bill smiled. "You must really love her."

"What makes you say that?"

"The way you mention her name and the look on your face say a lot," Bill explained, chuckling. "And not a whole lot of men would be willing to travel six, seven hours just to look for their fiancée."

His face immediately reddened. He wasn't sure what to say. Of course he loves Clara but was it that obvious?

"What do you do – I work at a hotel and serve chips most of the time if I'm not in the kitchen."

John cleared his throat. "'I'm a doctor – physician."

"That's amazing," she replied, not sure what else to say as their conversation came to a halt.

"Tickets please," a train conductor announced as he entered the carriage.

John pulled out his ticket from the pocket of his jacket and showed it to him. He grunted in approval before waiting for Bill to show him hers.

He took a closer look at her ticket and said, "You need to pay."

"What?" Bill uttered in shock. "I've paid for it!"

The man smirked. "This looks fake to me."

John couldn't believe the words he was hearing. It was absolutely disgusting.

Bill rose from her seat.

"I paid for this ticket at the train station – why else would I be here if it wasn't verified beforehand!" she growled.

The train conductor merely shrugged. "It's either you pay, or we kick you out at the next stop."

It was the last straw. "You're discriminating this woman," John stated calmly.

"This has nothing to do with you," he retorted and focused his attention on Bill. "Which will it be?"

"I'll pay for her ticket," the Doctor declared as he reached for his wallet.

At that moment, another train conductor walked in. "What's with all this commotion?"

The man glanced at his superior before he muttered, "Nothing, sir."

"Well, if that's the case, get back to work," the older man barked, watching as his co-worker scurried away.

"Thank you," Bill murmured to both John and the train conductor.

"If he bothers you again, Miss, please let me know," he said before returning to the previous carriage.

John returned to his seat and glanced at Bill. She seemed upset. "Are you alright?"

She granted him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine – should be used to it by now – thanks again."

Bill had assumed the Doctor had nothing more to say but she was surprised when she heard him say, "What's the name of the hotel?"

"Pardon?"

He finally looked away from the window. "The hotel you work at – what's the name?"

She beamed.

* * *

Clara Oswald stood up and exit the carriage once it came to a full stop at the station. Even though she hadn't been here for less than a year, it still felt as if she had been gone for a long time – the long journey permitted her to think a lot, especially her future.

As she followed the crowd to the exit, she pondered if her family knew where she was. She knew it was reckless of her to leave without informing anyone, or at least leaving a note but she didn't want anyone to follow her. No, this is something she wanted to do alone.

Finally, she was outdoors. People were still walking in and out, despite the gloomy weather. Normally, she would be pleased to see snow but not today. In fact, she felt empty, sad, hopeless.

Without another thought, she hailed a cab and instructed the driver to take her to Lethbridge Cemetery. Once she had reached her destination, she paid the driver and entered the empty, snow-covered graveyard.

After minutes of walking and manoeuvring around, she finally reached the headstone she was seeking. The last time she visited her mother was the day before she left for London and now, here she was again, but for a different purpose.

"Hello, mama," she murmured before she sat next to her mother's grave.

Clara wished her mother was still alive. She would certainly know what to do and say to her. She would understand. Her mother would surely approve of her marriage to John Smith.

Reality, however, can be cruel and harsh. Her mother wasn't here. She had been long gone.

Clara sobbed. "Mama, will you be mad at me for what I did – for what I'm about to do?"

There was no answer.

She placed a hand on the headstone. "I met this wonderful man, John Smith – he's an absolute gentleman and a bit of an idiot at times," she explained quietly. "And I love him, but father doesn't approve."

"He wants me to marry John Foreman, you would have remembered him – he was the boy who ran into the sea to retrieve the leaf you gave me."

Clara wiped her tears and pulled the coat tighter around her. It was getting chilly. "Is it wrong of me to follow my heart?" she continued.

"I'm sorry, mama."

She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there, perhaps an hour or two? No wonder it was getting dark. It didn't matter, she would take her time, despite shivering slightly.

Clara heard the sound of crunching snow but didn't bother turning around. She assumed it was just another strange visiting their beloved. A moment later, her shivering body was covered with a thick coat, with blue velvet lining on the inside.

"How did you find me?" she murmured, not moving from her spot nor looking away from the headstone.

John licked his lips before sitting next to Clara. "Your grandmother told me where you would be – well, guessed."

She smiled sadly. Her grandmother knew her all too well.

Clara grabbed John's hand. "I told mama about you."

"I figured you would," he murmured, kissing her hair.

They stayed there in silence for a moment longer before John spoke.

"Time to leave?"

Clara merely nodded as he helped her up. "You're not taking me back to London, are you?"

"No, I barely made it here due to heavy snow – we'll return tomorrow," he replied as he held her hand. "I'm sure there is a hotel nearby, somewhere."

She decided that once they found shelter, she would tell him.

They had been walking for twenty minutes when John suddenly asked, "Are you hungry – did you eat anything on the way here?"

"I'm not hungry."

Minutes later, the Doctor spotted an inn.

"Welcome to Armitage Bed and Breakfast – you are just in luck – we only have one room left," the woman behind the desk said, smiling at the couple.

"Well," John began but Clara cut in.

"We'll take it."

She felt tired and didn't think she could keep walking any longer.

The receptionist eyed the two before she opened the ledger. "If I could just write down your names…"

"John Smith," the Doctor said before he quickly glanced at Clara. "And Clara Smith."

Once he had paid for their room, he was handed the key and told to walk up the stairs to the second floor and search for room 12.

Once they were behind closed doors, safe from prying ears and eyes, Clara immediately apologised. "I'm sorry, but I didn't think I could keep walking any longer – I'm exhausted."

John shook his head. "I understand – you take the bed, I'll sleep on the chair."

"You must be joking," she uttered, staring at the chair. It was wooden and simply just a basic chair. She was sure anyone would wake up with a sore back if they sit there for long hours.

"I don't want to sleep on the floor."

"The bed is big enough," she reasoned. "I trust you – you're nothing but a gentleman."

He stared into her big brown eyes. He couldn't say no, and she was right, the bed is big enough for two people to sleep comfortably. "Very well," he sighed in resignation. If he was honest, he himself was exhausted from the journey and sleeping in a chair wouldn't make things better.

"Clara," he murmured, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed. "Why did you run off?"

"I… I wanted to say goodbye to my mother," she explained. "I would have travelled back to London to look for you if you hadn't come here."

The Doctor furrowed his brows in confusion. "What-"

"Let's elope," she suggested, almost like a demand. "We could go somewhere far away from London, maybe Scotland… or even away from Europe."

He held her hand gently as if she was made of glass and kissed it. "Running away won't solve anything – I did exactly that to my family and it ended up hurting them," he whispered before wiping her tears with his thumb. "We have to do what's right."

She sobbed before she kissed him desperately, savouring the taste of his lips, holding him close to her, never wanting to let go. Eventually, they pulled away.

"Get some rest," John said softly, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm sure you're exhausted."

"What about you?"

"I'll join you once I take these boots off."

Once they were in bed, Clara turned around to face him. "I… I don't know what to do – I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with someone I do not love but I can't shun my father."

He placed a hand on her cheek. "I love you, Clara Oswald," he said, voice nearly cracking. "You have no idea how much I love you and what I would be willing to do to show you that."

She placed her hand on top of his, caressing it with her thumb.

"But I cannot make you choose between me and your father-"

"John-"

He silenced her with a kiss. "I can't make you choose so I'm doing it for you – marry Foreman."

"No," she whispered, closing her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Sometimes we only are only given bad choices and we still have to choose – I won't tear you apart from your father."

"I love you, John Smith."

"And I love you, Clara Oswald, remember that."

He opened his arms and embraced her, comforting her as she sobbed. John held Clara that night as if his life depended on it.


	15. Chapter 15

_Thank you for all your support! Ready for more angst?_

* * *

The sound of bustling street and sun streaming through the curtains stirred John awake from his slumber. He didn't want to wake up just yet – the bed, while not the most comfortable thing in the world was still soft and snuggled closer to Clara, draping an arm over her stomach and burying his nose into her hair. Clara.

John's eyes shot open, filled with panic. He relaxed when he realised they were still fully clothed. His attention wandered back to the position he was in. His left arm was numb and being used as a pillow by Clara who was still sleeping.

Eventually, he relaxed and rested his head against the soft pillow, staring at the sleeping woman next to him. Maybe she was right. Maybe they should elope. John smiled at the thought of taking Clara to the Scottish countryside. She would surely love it.

What was he thinking? He couldn't do that to her, to her family, and especially her grandmother. She had trusted him to bring her back and he was going to stick to it.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Clara asked, eyes still closed.

John didn't know what to tell her. A part of him wanted to run away with her, but another part told him to do the right thing. He was tempted to leave everything behind and start afresh with the woman next to him.

When she received no response, Clara rolled over to face him. "We can still-"

He kissed her head. "Clara Oswald, I want nothing more than to marry you, to love you – to make you the happiest woman in the entire universe" he murmured. "But your grandmother trusted me, and I won't betray her."

He wiped away the single tear that had rolled down her cheek.

"I don't think I'm brave enough to do this," she said quietly.

John grabbed her hand, caressing it gently. "You have to be," whispered, kissing her hand.

Clara wished things weren't so difficult. She wished her father could see sense. What was wrong if she loved another man? Life seemed so cruel.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, John Smith," she chanted, kissing him.

He smiled at her sadly. "I love you more."

If this was going to be their last moment together, she was going to remember every bit of it. "Can you do something for me?"

"Just say it."

Clara snuggled closer to John. "If we got married, where would you take me to?" she asked, kissing his chest. She felt him smile.

"Scotland – the countryside is beautiful at any time of the year – I have a family cottage, next to a lake, somewhere in Crieff," he explained. "I'd love to take you there – there's a village nearby that has been baking the best loaf of bread I've ever tasted which I'm sure you will love, too."

She smiled happily, imagining the scene unfold in her mind.

They were running out of time, but they would savour every single moment they get.

* * *

"Oh, for God's sake, Dave!" Clarice sighed, slowly sitting on a chair. "You've been blind this whole time and, stubborn."

"I only want what's best for Clara," Dave stated. "That doctor won't give her the life she has now – she won't be happy with him in the long term."

"Who are you to predict their future together – do you have any idea how happy Clara is whenever she was with Dr Smith."

Dave shook his head in disagreement. He couldn't believe his mother had sent him to retrieve his daughter. Why on earth didn't she send Foreman – he would have been here with Clara by now.

"Dave," his mother said softly. "You are chaining your own daughter – my only granddaughter– please, don't do this to her."

"I'm doing this because I love her, mother."

She looked into her son's eyes. "What did you tell her?"

Dave scoffed. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You must have told Clara something to have caused her to act the way she did."

"I told her what needed to be said – she was going to marry Foreman."

Clarice pursed her lips. She knew her son was lying or at least hiding the truth. "I know you said more than just that."

He considered telling his mother the truth, but he was sure she wouldn't react well to it. Dave sighed. "I made Clara choose between me or her doctor."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Dave! How could you do that to your own daughter-"

"I promised her to John Foreman and I will honour that promise."

Clarice stared at her son in disbelief. "Even if she has to spend the rest of her life with someone she doesn't love?"

"Clara and John were childhood friends – I'm sure she will learn to love him, in time," he uttered.

"You can't force her to love someone."

Dave pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mother, please, we've been talking about this for hours now – Dr Smith is no good for her – besides Clara has rejected every single proposal – this is the last straw."

Clarice's shoulders sank in resignation. "You're punishing her for wanting to marry someone you don't approve – you barely know Dr Smith, so I think it's unfair for you to be judgemental."

Her son became silent, stunned by his mother's accusation.

"How would you feel if I or your late father didn't approve of your relationship with Elena?" she continued.

Her son shook his head. "This is different, mother," he argued weakly.

Realising that she was close to making Dave see sense, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just put yourself in her shoes – imagine what it feels like, to have your father make you choose between him or the man she loves, to succumb to what's expected from society."

Without another word, Clarice left the room, giving her son time to reflect and think about his actions. She would hope he would finally stop being so stubborn.

Unfortunately, her hopes would be dashed as while Dave would agree with what his mother said was true, he had told Lord Rassilon that his son would wed Clara. He couldn't simply break a promise.

* * *

The journey back to London was a quiet affair. Neither Clara nor John spoke much as they sat next to each other. They knew their lives will change once they step out of the train. They knew they would never be able to see each other again and it pained them both.

Silently, John grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. He didn't know why he did it. Perhaps he needed to reassure himself too. He glanced at the beautiful woman next to him, burning her face into his mind. At least he finally knew what it was like to truly love someone and he would cherish it until his death.

Once the train came to a halt at its final stop, the couple left the carriage in search of a cab.

Less than five minutes after they got in, Clara began silently crying. While she tried her best to hide it, John consoled her as soon as he noticed and handed her a handkerchief.

"Please," he begged. "Be strong and brave… for me."

"I don't think I can," she whispered, embracing him.

"I don't want our final memory to be one where you're crying in a carriage," he responded, pulling away before giving her a chaste kiss. John forced a smile. "Smile for me, one last time, Clara Oswald."

She closed her eyes and imagined the countryside he had told her earlier that day and smiled at the image of them spending time in the cottage returned.

The carriage came to a halt.

John took a quick glance out the window before he whispered words of love to her one last time. He squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek before stepping out.

He could see her grandmother stepping out, followed by Donna and Mr Rentford, as well as several household members.

He looked back and helped Clara out of the carriage.

Clarice was the first to embrace her. "Please do not frighten me like that, ever again," she said and pulled away. She turned to the Doctor. "Thank you, Dr Smith."

"Clara, I'm so glad you're alright!" exclaimed Donna as she gave her a bone-crushing embrace. "Medicine boy didn't do anything funny to you, did he?"

Clara forced a smile. "No, he was an absolute gentleman," she replied, wise to know it was best to leave out the part where they shared a bed.

"Great," Donna said before her features became serious. "What the hell were you thinking running off like that - what kind of a friend just leaves without saying anything?!"

Mr Rentford wanted to cover his face in shame. "Donna, there's no need for you to get angry."

"I didn't run around screaming 'Clara' for an hour around the estate for nothing!"

"Dear Lord," Mr Rentford murmured as he guided Donna back into the house.

It was time for John Smith to leave. He watched as Clara walked into her home before she glanced back and looked at him one final time. Her eyes were filled with sadness. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped when Clara quickly looked away.

The Doctor suddenly felt as if someone was watching him. He glanced around before looking up to see Dave staring at him from the windows on the second floor.

Wordlessly, he returned to the carriage and instructed the driver to take him home.

* * *

John Foreman had woken up early in the morning, anticipating any news regarding Clara. By noon, he decided to wait in the stables with Idris saddled up. News would come soon, and he could immediately dash to the Oswald residence without wasting time.

While waiting, his mind kept asking questions. Why did she run off? Why did she cry the day they met up? Was she afraid of him? No, of course not. That was a stupid question. Why didn't Clara's grandmother tell him who was sent to look for her? Is Clara alright? When will she be back, exactly?

Idris snorted when she got tired of watching her master pacing around.

"I'm sorry, Idris," he murmured, stroking her mane. "There's… I'm just thinking."

"John! John!" Harold yelled from outside the stables before he stepped inside. "I have great news – your-"

Harold didn't get the chance to finish as he watched his cousin mount Idris. "She's returned," he uttered watching as the horse galloped away.

He never felt so relieved that his plan was still in motion.

* * *

"Well, look who's finally back – imagine my surprise when I stepped into an empty house, yesterday," Missy said, as her brother entered the living room. "Where have you been – did you spend the night with Clara?"

She received no response. John had a pained and sad look on his face and her smile immediately dropped. "What happened?"

John sighed before he reached into the cabinet and took out a bottle of scotch. He poured himself a drink before telling his sister everything, from Clara running away to him travelling to Blackpool and taking her safely back home.

"Hang on, I still don't understand why she ran away or why you look so miserable."

"Her father didn't approve of us – me," John uttered, taking another swing of his drink.

Missy shrugged her shoulders. "Big deal – happens all the time."

"He made Clara choose between me and him."

"And she chose her father."

"No, I told her to marry Foreman," he murmured, finishing his drink.

Missy needed a moment to process what she had heard. "You bloody idiot!" she snapped.

Her brother furrowed his brows in confusion. "What-"

She slapped him hard. "You get a chance at a happy life and what do you do with it – you throw it away!"

"What the hell was I supposed to do – take her away from her family?" John roared.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not, but why the hell did you ask her to marry somebody else – are you that dense?"

John sank back down on the sofa and poured himself another drink. "Like I said, it was either she shuns her father, or she spends her life with someone like me," he answered, slurring slightly.

Missy massaged her temples. "Look, I understand you don't think you're worthy of someone like Clara but guess what, idiot, you are – she loves you and you love her, so everything works!"

"It wouldn't have worked out if we eloped – we'd just spend the rest of our lives running away from our problems – there would be no end to it and the guilt will eat me up."

His sister shook her head. "Nobody asked you to elope with her – you could have fought harder – unbelievable - I can't believe this," she said as she walked out, leaving her brother alone to drown in his misery.

* * *

 _Fun fact: This is now officially the longest story I have ever written so yay!_  
 _And sorry about the angst._


	16. Chapter 16

_Thank you so much for all your support! :)_

* * *

 **Three Days Later**

For the past few days, Clara had refused to leave the house. She had refused to see anyone except her friends and grandmother. John Foreman had requested to see her, but she didn't have the courage to face him. She was going to spend the rest of her life with a man who clearly loves her, but it wasn't mutual on her side. She would need time to digest that.

She had spent most of the time in her room, reading all the old letters she and John Smith had exchanged. She missed him terribly. The only thoughts which kept her mind sane were that of their memories together and the cottage of which he spoke of.

It had only been three days, but it felt like eternity and this was her own personal hell.

She heard a soft knock coming from the door but ignored it. It was probably her father. They hadn't spoken since she had returned or rather had been avoiding each other. The last thing she wanted to do was argue was with. Surely, he would broach the subject of marriage. She was sure he would after the action she took. Eventually, she would have to tell him that she would agree to wed John Foreman.

Slowly, the door was pushed opened and Clara was surprised to see not her father, but her best friend, Amy Pond.

Wordlessly, she ran up to her and hugged her friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my best friend, of course," Amy chuckled, pulling away. "Your nan told me what happened."

Clara merely gave her a sad smile.

"Alright," she said, with determination. "I need to know what really went on because I'm sure you left out a lot of details to everyone."

There was a reason why she was her best friend.

Clara groaned and covered her face with a hand. "I don't even know where to begin."

"The beginning."

"John and I, we told my father we wanted to get married," she began. "But he didn't approve and expects me to just end my relationship with John, so I-"

Amy's eyes widened. "Ok, just stop for a moment- why doesn't your father approve – he's been wanting you to get married for what, years now."

"I honestly don't know, Amy," Clara sighed, sitting on a chair. "I… I got upset and thought that maybe John would agree to elope, so I took a train to Blackpool to…"

Clara had trouble finishing her sentence. She felt Amy place a comforting hand on hers.

"John found me at the cemetery and that was it – my plan didn't work."

Her best friend gave her a look. She knew there was more to it.

"What?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "Well, that can't be it – he found you and when exactly did you return to London – oh, that's right, the next day and obviously, the two of you must have talked."

Clara tried to look calm and collected. "We stayed at a hotel – the snow was too heavy that day," she said quietly, avoiding her gaze. She finally gave up when she saw her friend smirk. "Oh, alright!"

"I want to know all about it," Amy giggled.

Clara's face immediately reddened. "We shared a bed," she admitted, almost in a whisper.

"I knew it - you've stopped calling him Dr Smith so something obviously changed," Amy exclaimed before she was immediately shushed. "Sorry, continue."

"We shared a bed, and nothing happened," Clara insisted. "I told him I wanted to elope, but John insisted on us returning since nan gave him her trust… and he told me to marry John Foreman."

Amy furrowed her brows in confusion. "Is it because of your father?"

"More or less," Clara sighed.

"Are you really going with it – you can't do this to yourself, Clara!"

She shrugged. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

Amy was speechless. She had known Clara ever since they were children and if there was one thing she was sure of her best friend wasn't one to give up easily.

"I lose either way, anyway – if I marry John, I'll lose my father, my family, and if I wed the man my father approves of, I'll lose John," she added with a hint of sadness.

* * *

"Alright, here's the ring – I made sure it was the right size so don't ask," Harold Saxon muttered as he handed the engagement ring to John.

The young man pulled the box opened and stared at it. None of this felt right. He would be jumping with joy right now if there wasn't anything suspicious going on.

"Why do you want me to propose now?" he asked.

His cousin waved a hand. "You two have known each other for a while now so her father and your father thought it's now or never."

"I find that hard to believe – how can I marry a woman who refuses to even see me, let alone talk to me," John retorted, pocking the ring.

Harold stared at his cousin, debating what to tell him. "Fine, I wasn't supposed to tell you this just yet, but, the reason your future wife ran away in the first place is that she was scared," he lied smoothly.

"Scared?" John repeated sarcastically.

"The last time she saw you was back when you were children and you're all grown up now – she wasn't sure if you were still the same kind and loving John Foreman she met all those years ago and Clara has been unmarried up until now – she spent a significant part of her life with her family so of course, the idea of not seeing them as often anymore terrifies her – it would terrify any woman."

He took his time to process his cousin's words carefully. Harold is a businessman and known for talking his way through things. He would need more than just words of assurance from him.

"And how do you know all of this?"

The older man smiled. "I talked to her father – he explained everything so there is no need for you to worry whether she loves you or not – it's more about herself."

John had other ideas in mind. He didn't believe his cousin completely. No, he would not believe Harold unless he heard the same explanation coming from Clara herself. The problem is, she doesn't want to see him.

"So why ask me to propose now if she is in no state to see anyone?"

Harold rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking you to propose to her at this exact moment, cousin dearest – I'm sure Mr Oswald will have a chat with your bride and assure her that not much will change."

He gave his cousin a hard stare before accepting his answer. "That reminds me – I'm very much aware that I'm not the only one after Clara's heart."

"What are you on about – you're her only suitor."

He hated it when Harold played dumb. His patience was wearing thin. "Stop treating me like an idiot, Harold."

Harold shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe he realised he didn't stand a chance against a wealthy, young man or maybe Mr Oswald had a talk with him – I don't know everything there is to know, John."

John had made up his mind. There is more to it. He needed answers. He was going to see Clara whether she wants to see him or not. He left the room without another word, leaving Harold by himself who was busy going through the letters he received in the morning.

One particular letter piqued his interest when he remembered a young boy running into the estate as if the devil was chasing him.

Silently, he opened the white envelope, pulled out the letter, unfolded it and scanned it carefully, eyes slowly widening in shock and horror.

His merchant ship which was en route to London from India was robbed by pirates last night. Every single cargo on the ship was stolen. All 200,000 pounds worth of goods.

* * *

"Clara hasn't been eating much at all and I'm worried sick," Donna said as she entered the kitchen with a tray still full of food. "Lord forbid if she keeps this up."

"It obviously had something to do with what happened a few days ago," gossiped a maid.

A young man suddenly asked, "Did Clara say anything, Donna – I'm getting worried – I've only known her for a few years and she's never this upset."

Donna shook her head. "She's been quiet, and Amy hasn't had much success getting her to leave her room either."

"What do you think happened between her and Dr Smith – they looked, I don't really know how to put it," said one of the stable boys, scratching his head, "Upset, as if they weren't going to see each other again."

"I wish I knew, James," Donna replied, setting the tray into the sink. "If I see Medicine Boy again, I'm going to hit his head with a rolling pin for upsetting Clara – I'm going to hit him so hard, his grandchildren will feel it."

Mr Rentford, who was minding his own business, looked up from the newspapers. "Why would you want to attack Dr Smith – he brought Clara home."

"And said something that upset her, obviously."

Mr Rentford had a feeling, no, knew there was more to it. Dr Smith didn't upset her. If he had, she wouldn't have shared a carriage with him. Why sit in a box with a man you are upset at for an hour, if not for a different reason. Of course, he kept this to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was spread more rumours.

"Whatever it is, Medicine Boy is a dead man, next time I see him."

* * *

Will you at least talk to her?" Clarice inquired, almost pleading with her son.

Dave shook his head. "She should be the one talking to me, mother – does she have any idea what kind of trouble she's caused – I had to explain personally to Lord Rassilon why my daughter decided to suddenly vanish while his son is preparing to propose to her."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have promised Clara to John Foreman in the beginning – what were you thinking, Dave?"

Dave sighed tiredly. "I… I was frustrated she kept turning down every single suitor I could find – when I met Lord Rassilon, he told me he was having the same problem, so we had an agreement."

"Have mercy on your daughter."

"I am showing her mercy – I'm securing her future – if she marries Foreman, she will be financially secure, safe, and loved – once she is his wife, she will have forgotten all about Dr Smith."

Clarice placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Dave, it isn't too late – perhaps, if you explain it to Mr Foreman or Lord Rassilon the truth, then-"

He couldn't picture his daughter being happily married to Dr Smith, even if she did love him.

"A promise is a promise, mother, and I don't understand why everyone is siding with Dr Smith – he's 20 years her senior – what does everyone see that I don't?"

She smiled sadly at him. "Happiness, love – everyone sees that in them, except you, Dave."

Their conversation was interrupted when a knock was heard coming from the door.

"Come in."

As it swung open, Clara stepped in her face blank.

"Clara, darling," Clarice said gently. "What brings you here?"

She could tell her granddaughter was fighting back tears.

"I've made my mind, father," she spoke, voice shaking. "I agree to marry John Foreman."

Her grandmother's eyes widened in shock. What on earth has possessed her only granddaughter?

"Have you now – it is a relief that you are following my wishes for once," Dave said coolly. "Very well then, thank you, Clara."

He smiled at her. "This is good news, indeed – see mother, she has come to her senses."

She nodded and turned around to leave the room, her grandmother following behind her.

"Clara, Clara," Clarice called, trying to catch her attention. She knew she was only avoiding her so that she wouldn't see the tears.

Clara didn't say anything until she returned to her bedroom where Amy was anxiously waiting for her. She couldn't hold it any longer and broke down, consoled by her grandmother and best friend.

"Clara, why on earth would you do this to yourself?" Clarice asked, gently.

"I tried talking her out of it," Amy explained.

Clara shook her head. "What good would that do – father is dying, I can't marry the man I love because I'm promised to someone else…"

It would seem she had heard everything.

Amy caressed her best friend's hair. "Oh, Clara, I'm sorry."

Clarice stared her granddaughter for a moment before she made up her mind. "Pack your bags - run away with Dr Smith-"

"He doesn't want me to do that, nan, I…," she sniffed, embarrassed to her own grandmother she had thought of it first. "I asked him to elope and he said no… he doesn't want me to choose between him and father."

Any other person would have been horrified and angry that their child or grandchild would think of doing such a thing, but she wasn't. If anything, she was sure, now than ever before that they were meant to be together.

"He told you to marry Mr Foreman," she concluded. It explained everything, then. The looked that they shared days ago. It was a goodbye. "I'm so sorry, Clara, I'm so sorry things are the way they are."


	17. Chapter 17

_This is the final chapter. The epilogue will be posted soon. I hope you've had a wonderful time reading the story :)_

* * *

 **One Week Later**

John Smith couldn't sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep since returning from Blackpool. His thoughts kept circling back to Clara, no matter how many times he told himself to forget about her. She would eventually forget about him once she becomes somebody else's wife.

Whenever he slept, his dreams would be of Clara Oswald, of her beautiful face, her funny nose, those big brown eyes of hers. He would wake up the middle of the night when he dreamt, half asleep, thinking she was next to him, but there was only a cold empty bed to greet him.

It was torture. He misses her. It had been less than two weeks, and yet it felt as if months had passed.

To make things even worse, his mind kept playing different scenarios in his head. If Mr Oswald had approved of him, John imagined he wouldn't feel so miserable right now. He was free to be in public together with Clara. He could take her to dinner, see a show together – he would be able to treat her the way she deserves to be treated. They would hide no longer.

If they had eloped, they would be in Scotland right now – probably hiding in the cottage as a newly wedded couple. He could picture her, waking up next to him, her hair everywhere on the pillow. He could almost feel her sweet lips against his.

John immediately erased the image from his mind. It was torture. Why is he doing this to himself? Forget about her. Forger about Clara Oswald.

But he knew the truth. He couldn't forget about her. Not her name, not her face, not her smile, not even the smell of her hair.

Eventually, the Doctor closed his eyes and drifted to slumber. He dreamt of Clara Oswald again that night. It was a beautiful scene. They were in the countryside, Clara was holding something… or someone in her arms. A small bundle. It became clearer that she was holding their child, no older than a year old. A wide smile on her lips as she cooed at their baby. He could hear her calling him, telling him to stop standing there like a fool. If it meant he could cherish the moment and pause it, then he would be the biggest fool in the universe.

* * *

Clara stared out the window, looking up at the bright stars. She felt restless. Whenever she tried to sleep, her mind and body refused to obey.

Reading didn't help. Her mind would wander someplace else, most of the time, John Smith. She wondered what he was doing. If he was coping well or not. She was concerned about him. Is he recovering and resting as he should? Was he eating well? Is he having trouble sleeping as she is right now? Clara wished she knew.

Silently, she walked towards the drawer and pulled out the old letters John had written to her. She might as well read them again since she won't be going to bed anytime soon.

Meanwhile, a man who had managed to sneak into the estate via the back garden trudged as quietly as he could, careful to avoid being detected as he used the shadows as cover. He glanced back and saw his horse quietly standing where she was, underneath a tree.

John Foreman bent down and collected several small pebbles before stopping in front of the mansion, trying to figure out which window is the one to Clara's bedroom. He guessed it was the one in the corner, judging by his memory of the last time he was there and raised his arm before throwing the stone against the glass window.

He waited for a moment before he tried again. By the third time, he saw a shadow approaching and fixed his bowtie. His smile disappeared when he realised the woman sticking her head out the window isn't Clara Oswald.

"Let me guess, you're John Foreman," she stated, half-annoyed at being woken up.

He gave her a nervous smile. "I'm sorry – I thought I chose the right window, it seems not, Miss..."

"Mrs Williams-Pond."

It could have been worse, he thought. It could have been Donna and she surely would have screamed at him for waking her up from her beauty sleep.

"My apologies, Mrs Williams-Pond."

Amy was too tired to wonder why he was here in the middle of the night, so she decided to put him out of his misery. "Clara's room is two windows to your right."

"Thank you," John muttered embarrassedly before picking up the pebbles he had dropped and stood in front of the correct window this time.

He threw a pebble and waited for a few seconds.

John silently prayed he had hit the right window this time and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Clara's confused face. She immediately pushed it opened when she saw him.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" she whispered, surprised by his presence.

He cleared his throat. "Please, Clara, I only wish to talk to you and apologise if I have upset you."

Clara became silent. If anybody needed to give an apology, it was her. "John, I'm sorry-"

"Clara, please, listen to what I have to say first," he pleaded.

Reluctantly, she nodded, and John continued. "The reason I came here is that I wish to know why you are avoiding me, Clara – have I done something to upset you?"

"No, John, you've done nothing of the sort – if anyone should apologise, it should be me – I'm sorry for avoiding you and for everything," Clara murmured, leaning against the pane of the window.

He smiled at her. "I'll only accept yours if you accept mine."

She beamed at him, as she remembered him being such a sweet boy back when they first met, and it would seem he hasn't lost his innocence. "Fair enough."

Their conversation wasn't over yet as John had more to say and ask. "If you don't mind me asking, why… did you run away to Blackpool?"

Harold had told him one side of the story and it was time heard it from the other side.

Clara immediately avoided his gaze. "I… I was being silly and stupid – forget about it."

He knew there was more to it and tried coaxing it out of her.

"Please, Clara, I only want the truth, however difficult it may be to me," he murmured, slipping his hand into the pocket of his trousers and twirling the wedding ring. "If you cannot confine to me, then perhaps to your childhood friend?"

Clara pondered on what she should do or say. Should she tell him the truth and hold on to that tiny glimmer of hope that he will let her go if he knew her heart beats for someone else or does she play it safe and throw away her chance at happiness?

"I ran away because I wanted to visit my mother's grave – I thought about run-"

She was interrupted when they heard dogs howling in the distance, spooking Idris. The horse neighed and ran towards her master.

John grabbed her face and rubbed her mane. "It's alright, calm down Idris," he whispered soothingly. "It's alright."

"I swear if those stupid, rabid stray dogs attack the garden or horses again, I'm going to take them to the pound myself!" Donna yelled.

Both Clara and John jumped when they heard her.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked, mounting Idris. "Please, Clara."

She nodded and said, "Meet me tomorrow morning at Hyde Park at half nine."

Her father usually leaves for work at around eight, so she could easily leave the mansion without anybody questioning her, well, aside from her grandmother.

* * *

Harold Saxon set the empty glass aside before he hid his face with one hand. For the past few days. he had immediately gone to the gentleman's club after work and drank like there was no tomorrow. He couldn't believe he lost so much money in a single day.

To add insult to injury, the merchant ship was robbed in broad daylight, just 70 miles away from London. It was so close. 200,000 British pounds worth of goods gone like the wind.

Harold grabbed the bottle of alcohol and threw it against the wall in anger. Ridiculous. Even Scotland Yard was incompetent. They had told him they would update him once they've made some sort of progress. Two days later and what did they say? No leads.

Clumsily, he grabbed his coat and left the club, deciding it was best he went home. He kept reassuring himself that he would get the money back, one way or another – once his weak cousin marries the girl, he'd be able to control the shipment of goods to not only northern England but also the west. Yes, he would get his money back in due time.

As he stepped out into the cold night, he saw a woman standing under the gaslight from across the street. Harold was too intoxicated to care and so, he began walking, hoping a cab would pass by.

He made eye contact with the mysterious woman and she smiled at him. He wasn't sure if it was sarcastic or not. It looked sarcastic. "What are you looking at?" he slurred.

She approached him. "Hello to you too, handsome," she purred.

Once Harold got a good look at her face, he realised how pretty she was. "Scottish women aren't usually my type," he said, grinning.

Missy lead him into an alleyway. "Then why are you still looking?"

"Why are you still playing the game?" he replied, following her.

She shrugged before roughly pushing him against the wall, causing Harold to laugh.

Missy took a quick glance at his wedding band. "How naughty of you to flirt with someone when you're already married," she whispered, running her hand down his chest and stopped when she reached his belt.

Harold wasn't for one to sleep with women he didn't know, but if anything, he was getting turned on by her. "And what about you?"

"What about me?" Missy replied, playing with his belt. Suddenly, her smile dropped. "Alright, I'm getting bored already, goodnight."

Harold grunted when he was knocked unconscious with an umbrella to the head. He crashed to the floor a moment later.

"That's for John," Missy muttered.

She rummaged through his coat and found his wallet. "Guess you won't be needing this."

She got up, tossed the coat into a puddle and gave him one final kick before walking away, wallet in one hand. Ten minutes later, as she was walking past River Thames, she tossed the wallet into the river.

Missy smiled. Once he wakes up, he would have a hard time trying to prove his identity to the police and that will likely send him to the station.

* * *

"You could have told me where we are going, you know," Amy said sleepily. Clara had woken her up early in the morning and told her to get ready. The next thing she knew, she was in a carriage, on her way to God knows where.

"Sorry, I just want us to be there on time," Clara replied, looking out the window. "We're going to Hyde Park – I told John to meet me there."

Amy arched a brow, still confused. "So why are you bringing me along?"

"Moral support?" her best friend suggested. The truth was, she needed someone to distract her and to indeed support her. Who better than her best friend.

"He wanted me to tell him the truth," she explained. "I'm… I'm still debating whether I should come clean and just play along – I don't know what to do, Amy."

Amy reached out and placed a comforting hand on hers. "He seems like a nice man – I think you should follow your heart... I think he will understand."

Clara could feel that glimmer of hope of happiness. "Yes, yes, I'll tell him everything."

The carriage came to a halt and she knew they were at their destination. The two women stepped out of the carriage and walked toward the nearest bench.

Twenty minutes passed and there was still no sign of John Foreman.

"This is unusual – I doubt John is the type of man who's tardy," Clara commented.

"Do you think he'll show up?"

"I honestly don't know."

They decided to wait for another ten minutes. By the time it was ten past ten, Clara thought it was best they leave. However, just as she and Amy rose from the bench, a familiar figure came running into the park.

"Clara!" John called out before Idris came to a halt. He dismounted from the horse and fixed his bowtie. "I'm terribly sorry for being late – I had to go to Scotland Yard to clear things up with the police – oh, hello, Mrs Williams-Pond."

"What happened – you're not in trouble, are you?" Clara inquired.

He shook his head. "Heavens no – it's my cousin – he was found in an alleyway, half-asleep and intoxicated – the police officer decided to take him to the station since he thought Harold was a homeless man... and he also put up a fight."

"I hope he's alright."

John nodded. "He is – only suffered a few bruises when they locked him up in a cell with other criminals – once again, I apologise."

Clara granted him a sympathetic smile. "That's fine – Amy kept me company."

"So," he said nervously. "Would you like to have a stroll?"

"I'll wait here," Amy whispered to her friend as Clara and John began walking.

"How have you been – did you sleep well?" John asked, hiding his hands in the pockets of his trousers. He began fiddling with the wedding ring he kept hidden in the left pocket.

"I'll be honest, not quite – I haven't been able to stop thinking," Clara confessed. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "I haven't had the luxury of getting a good night's rest either."

When he had returned home, he spent a large amount of his time pondering. Perhaps Clara didn't want to marry him, but if it is true, then why hasn't she said anything? Did she have a choice in this? He wasn't blind or stupid. He saw the looks Clara and Dr Smith shared. Perhaps he had already lost from the beginning. It ached his heart, but he would face it like a man.

Clara stared at him from the corner of her eyes. She never felt so nervous in her entire life.

' _Let me be brave'_

She kept repeating it over and over in her mind. "John, about last night," she began.

"Yes," he answered, almost with a sad tone. "I believe you wanted to tell me something?"

It was now or never. "I… I ran away because I told my father I was in love with a man."

His heart began beating rapidly. It gave him a bit of hope. It could be him and that what Harold had said is true.

"But, he became upset when I told him the man I love is someone he doesn't approve of."

John's heart sank. Indeed, he had lost from the very beginning. Nevertheless, he kept his composure. "Ah, that explains it, but why run away?" he asked softly.

Clara was close to tears, but she fought it. "I wanted to say goodbye to my mother – I had this stupid plan to elope with John – Dr Smith, but he convinced me otherwise – I was forced to choose between him and my father."

It is clear now why she avoided him, why she cried in that bookshop. John let go of the ring and grabbed both of Clara's hands. He kissed them with watery eyes. "Oh, Clara, you really are the Impossible Girl – I never stood a chance, did I?"

She sniffed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for breaking your heart, John."

John wiped away the single tear with his thumb. "Why didn't say anything – you could have told me, and I would have let you go."

Clara couldn't hold it any longer. She shed more tears. Tears of joy, that the risk she took was worth it – John understood and tears of sadness. John Foreman doesn't deserve getting his heart broken.

He smiled at her. "Dry your tears," he murmured, pulling out a handkerchief. "And go to him, to the man you love."

John cut her off before she could protest. "Don't worry about your father – I will talk to him."

"Thank you, John, thank you," Clara said, hugging him. "Will you be alright?"

He snickered. "Yes, I will be just fine – I'm always ok, I'm the king of ok… Oh, that's a rubbish title."

They pulled away. "Thank you," Clara whispered, handing him the handkerchief back.

"You're very welcome, Clara Oswald – anything for your happiness," he replied. "Now go and promise me something – promise me that he will love you more than you love him and himself."

Clara chuckled before she nodded.

"Good or I'll knock his lights ou - go!" he shooed her away.

He watched as she strode back to the entrance where Amy and Mr Rentford were waiting but halfway through, she stopped, turned around and ran back to him.

"What is it?" he asked, confused.

Wordlessly, Clara grabbed his face and kissed his cheek, surprising him. She then ran back to the carriage, leaving him with a burning cheek. He placed a hand on the spot where her lips were and he smiled.

* * *

John Smith unlocked the door to his home and stepped inside before tossing his bag carelessly on the floor. He had just returned from visiting from several patients and he already felt exhausted. Maybe it was due to the lack of sleep. Maybe it was due to him skipping meals. Maybe it was both. Either way, he couldn't care less.

He felt so empty that it didn't matter. He was going to die alone and old. His only living relative hates him and the woman he loves is no longer his. Fantastic.

John sank down on the sofa before he closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. Maybe he would have been happier if he had eloped with Clara.

His train of thought was interrupted when a desperate knock was heard coming from the front door.

"Yes, I'm coming!" he growled, annoyed that whoever it was, was still hitting the bloody door.

His anger dissipated when he saw the person standing in front of him.

"Clara," he said softly, eyes full of sadness. "What-"

He wasn't given the chance to finish when she grabbed the lapels of his coat and kissed him desperately. John was shocked at first and awkwardly flailed his arms around like a fish. He eventually relaxed when he realised how much he missed the taste and feel of her lips on his own.

To hell with his good intentions. He returned the kiss with equal passion and cupped her face with both hands. For the first time since they separated, John felt rejuvenated. He twirled her around and broke the kiss. "What are you doing here?" he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you, John Smith," Clara whispered happily.

He gave her a boyish grin when he saw the happiness in her eyes. "I love you even more, Clara Oswald," he replied, kissing her.

Once they pulled away, John ran a hand through his hair. He cleared his throat. "I… So… does this mean…"

She nodded. "I'm not sure how father will react, but John let me go."

The Doctor grabbed her hand and kissed it before he got down on one knee. "Clara Oswald, will you make me the happiest man in the entire universe and marry me?"

The beautiful smile was all the answer John Smith needed.


	18. Chapter 18

_Hello!_

 _First and foremost, I would just like to thank everyone for their support - this story wouldn't have been possible without it. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story and I hope it has been a pleasant experience._

 _I hope you will love the epilogue._

* * *

 **Epilogue**

 **Four Years Later**

"I was hoping we could go there a bit sooner, actually," Clara Smith said quietly to her husband, snuggling closer to him. "I miss the cottage."

"That makes it the two of us," John Smith replied, kissing her head.

"Keep it down," she scolded him playfully, hitting his arm.

John chuckled, grabbing her hand and placing a gentle kiss. "I was."

Clara rolled over to check up on their son who was sleeping soundly in the spot where she would usually sleep. The poor child had woken up in the middle of the night, face wet with tears as he had suffered a nightmare. She carefully ran a hand through the boy's curly hair before returning to her husband's embrace.

"Let me guess, it was either a human stuck inside a machine or a shape-shifting monster that was chasing him."

Clara kissed his neck. "Human stuck inside a machine," she confirmed. "Missy needs to tone down her stories."

The Doctor kissed her. "You would think she would have made it child-friendly."

His wife beamed. "At least there's a silver lining – I'm cuddling you, aren't I?"

John grinned before his hand disappeared under the covers. Clara giggled when she felt him running his hand down her thigh.

"Down, boy," she giggled, intertwining their fingers.

"You started it," he replied, leaning in to kiss her once more.

Clara moaned when he began trailing kisses down her neck. "John, not now," she protested weakly, playing with the curls at the back of his head. She knew her husband was just teasing her but she herself couldn't help it.

Their moment didn't last long when their son began groaning at the commotion. John immediately pulled away when their child immediately sat up.

"Good morning, darling," Clara greeted, rolling over.

The young boy rubbed his eyes and stared at his parents for a second before he said, "Good morning, mama, papa."

"Your mother told me you had a nightmare, last night," John said.

"I did, papa," the boy groaned before he lied back down again, hugging his mother.

Clara and her husband exchanged looks. "Malcolm, would it help improve your mood if we told you we're going to see your grandad today?" John suggested.

Young Malcolm shot eyes open. "Grandad, today?" he asked excitedly, eyes shining brightly.

While he had inherited most of his looks from his father, from the curly hair to the lanky build, Malcolm Smith had his mother's eyes.

"Yes," Clara confirmed, kissing her son's head. "I'm sure your grandad misses you as much as you miss him."

The three-year-old wriggled out of his mother's embrace and climbed out of bed, full of energy. "Let's go, let's go!" he demanded happily.

John and Clara chuckled at their son's antics. "First thing's first, a bath," Malcolm's mother explained before she freed herself from her husband's embrace. "And the same goes for you, Dr Smith."

Malcolm ran out of the room, wanting to get it done quickly so he could see his grandfather sooner.

"Can't I stay in bed a bit longer, Mrs Smith?" John asked playfully after his wife gave him a peck on the lips.

Clara giggled. "Not unless you want to continue where we left off, later tonight, Dr Smith."

John smirked before he threw away the covers and planted his feet on the ground. "Blackmailing your husband should be considered a crime."

"Mama, mama!" Malcolm yelled from the bathroom. "Hurry!"

"Oh please, John, you're obviously enjoying it," Clara replied, winking.

Truth to be told, he was enjoying their banter, despite constantly insisting that he wasn't one for banter.

John's lips formed a grin. Almost four years of marriage and they were still behaving as if they fell in love for the first time. Sure, they have had their fair share of arguments throughout the years, but what marriage doesn't? At the end of the day, their love for each other is far too much for them to stay mad at each other for long.

* * *

It became a sort of routine. Ever since Malcolm was born, the family would visit Dave on a regular basis. It was certainly difficult at first for John as his schedule as a physician was unreliable so when the university where he taught part-time at, offered him a permanent position, he immediately took the offer. The wages were a lot more stable and it meant he didn't have to work on Saturdays and Sundays, meaning he could spend quality time with his family.

"How much longer, Papa?" Malcolm asked, snapping John out of his thoughts. The boy was all smiles as he looked out the window of the carriage taking in the view of the busy streets of London.

John chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair. His son had been asking him the same question for the third time now. "Soon, Malcolm – if we've past Coal Hill Bakery, then we should arrive in twenty minutes," he explained before taking his hat off and placing it on his son's head. It sank down to his nose.

"Papa!"

Clara stared silently at the two boys, feeling her heart soar with pride and love. She could still remember the day she married John and the day she gave birth to Malcolm. It was surreal to think she finally got her happy ending in the end.

John caught her staring at them both, causing him to grab her hand and kiss it. "Thinking about something, Mrs Smith?"

She beamed. "Just thinking about how much I love the both of you."

"The feeling is mutual, isn't that right, Malcolm?"

Malcolm pulled the hat up and grinned boyishly. "Yes!"

The carriage came to a halt and a moment later, they heard the gates being opened.

"We're here!" the three-year-old exclaimed, taking off the hat and handing it back to his father. He stuck his head out the window.

"Grandad!" he yelled when he saw Dave standing outside on the porch.

"Malcolm, be careful," Mr Rentford said gently as he parked the carriage.

"Grandad, grandad!"

Dave set his walking stick aside and opened up his arms as his grandson ran up to him.

"Hello, my boy!" the old man greeted with a raspy voice lifting him up. "Are you really Malcolm – my goodness – look at you, you've grown!"

Clara smiled at the scene in front of her before her husband helped her out of the carriage.

The boy giggled. "It is me, grandad!"

Dave set his grandson down when his arms began to feel weak. "Alright, I tell you what, why don't you go inside and eat some snacks first – Aunty Donna and Uncle Shawn aren't here today since they're on their honeymoon, but I asked Mr Thomas to make you your favourite biscuits – eat first and then we can play hide a seek, yes?"

Malcolm nodded before he ran inside, in search of Mr Thomas and his favourite chocolate chip cookies.

"Hello, father," Clara greeted happily, kissing his cheek. John trailed behind her with their suitcases.

"Clara, darling, so good to see you," Dave said with a warm smile before glanced at John. "How are you, John?" he asked kindly.

Four years ago, when he was informed that Clara wouldn't be marrying John Foreman, he was disappointed. He continued to give John Smith the cold shoulder, that was until he realised just how much they love each other. It took him a while to see it but he was glad he did. The ice around his heart finally melted away when Malcolm was born. It made Dave realise that he was wrong all along.

John gave him a smile. "Good, thank you,"

Dave grabbed his walking stick and all three stepped inside.

"How have you been, father – are you still having chest pains?" Clara asked.

"Ah, you know how it is with me but it's manageable – it's not as bad as it used to be, so I suppose the medication is working."

At that moment, Malcolm ran down the hallway. "Hide and seek, grandad!" he said, tugging the old man's shirt.

Dave laughed. "Alright, alright, let's go to the garden."

John and Clara, on the other hand, retreated to their bedroom.

"I still think he hates me," John commented, setting the suitcase in the corner.

Clara rolled her eyes. Her husband was still convinced that his father-in-law still despises him after all these years. "Nonsense, you daft man – that's just the way my father is."

He pursed his lips and his wife wrapped her arms around him. "If he didn't like you," she continued. "He wouldn't have acknowledged you."

He arched a brow. "Are you sure – it still feels, well, awkward."

She shook her head and kissed him. "You're always awkward, daft man but you're my daft man."

He smiled at her. "What did I ever do to deserve you, Clara Oswald?"

"You came to this very house four years ago and listened to my woes instead of brushing it off," she murmured. Her eyes then lit up. "Oh, that reminds me."

Clara broke free from her husband's embrace and searched for something in the suitcase.

"I received a letter from John Foreman yesterday – he's invited us to his wedding."

The Doctor took off his coat and hanged it on the coat hanger. "Oh, is that so – he's finally found someone – when is the wedding?"

"In four month's time," Clara said, reading the letter again. "He says he met Oswin a year ago when he was travelling in Switzerland."

"Good for him, then," her husband mumbled, lying on the bed, remembering how he had let Clara go and told her to marry Foreman.

"You're not still jealous, are you," she teased.

"How can I be when you're the mother of my child?"

As if on cue, they heard Malcolm screeching in the garden.

John and Clara shared a smile.

* * *

Malcolm ran behind a bush and hid there as his grandfather counted down.

"Three… two… one!" Dave exclaimed opening his eyes. "Hmm, Malcolm, where are you?"

He knew exactly where the boy was, as his tiny shoes were exposed, but Dave played along, standing in front of his hiding spot and looking around.

"Where could that little boy be?" he said to himself, scratching his head. He then turned around and carried Malcolm out of the bush. "There he is!"

The three-year-old screeched at being discovered and lifted up into the air.

Eventually, after two hours of playtime, Malcolm fell asleep behind the sofa while playing hide and seek indoors. His father had to carry all the way upstairs to his bedroom, not that he minded. John always loved it when the boy wrapped his tiny arms around his neck and rested his head on his shoulder as if everything in the world would be alright.

Dave had retreated to his study and sat down in the leather chair in front of the fireplace. Playtime had exhausted him too, but it was worth it. At times like this, Dave would ponder.

He stared down at the drawing his grandson made. It was a picture of him, his parents and of course, Dave. He smiled.

Clara is happily married, John is treating her well and he couldn't have asked for a better grandson. Yes, everything is brilliant. He finally got his wish of his daughter being happy and taken care of. Granted, it didn't turn out how he planned, but Dave would consider it a happy ending, nonetheless.

His eyes became heavy and his breathing short. He looked down at the drawing with watery eyes one last time and smiled before he let out his final breath and closed his eyes, hand losing grip of the piece of paper, but it remained where it was, on his chest, close to his heart.

 **The End**


End file.
